


Hand of Fate

by River_Winters



Series: The Hand of Fate [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Clone Wars, Complete, F/M, Forbidden Love, Force Bond (Star Wars), Fusion of Star Wars Legends and Disney Canon, Luke and Rey Are Not Related, Movie: Star Wars: Attack of the Clones, Movie: Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith, Movie: Star Wars: The Phantom Menace, Mutual Pining, Naboo Culture and Customs (Star Wars), Original Character(s), Original Storylines, Planet Naboo (Star Wars), Plot Twists, Rey Kenobi, Rey is Not a Palpatine, Sabé/Obi-Wan, Slow Burn, Soulmates, Virgin Obi-Wan Kenobi, Young Obi-Wan Kenobi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:54:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 43
Words: 237,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24373852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/River_Winters/pseuds/River_Winters
Summary: Sabé and Obi-Wan both live in service to the greater good, but when gathering storms threaten to rip apart the galaxy, they ultimately find themselves connected in a way that must be kept secret. Sobiwan. Slow burn. TPM onward / original adventures / AU.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Sabé, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Series: The Hand of Fate [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2080659
Comments: 49
Kudos: 51





	1. Invasion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Intro/Notes: Welcome and thanks for stopping by! My name is River. I originally started writing this story as far back as 2012 or 2013 (I'm not entirely sure at this point) and then abandoned my drafts for years. Thankfully I never deleted the documents and more recently after the new trilogy released, it has me in a Sobiwan mood again and ready to write this story I've circled back to many times in my mind over the years. Sabé and Obi-Wan are truly one of my favorite pairings—my first ever ship actually in 1999. I feel like it's time to put my take on their relationship out there for the world to see!
> 
> This story will be a mixture of moments you recognize from the movies/books/shows and original content/adventures too. Please note I plan to go off-script a bit here and there from canon. You can expect a slow burn romance, character studies, and lots of emotional torture, cuz that's my favorite thing to write apparently, ha!
> 
> Please leave a review if you are enjoying the read. I love hearing from you. Thanks!
> 
> Also, follow along on the blog I've created for the story where I will answer your questions, post faceclaims, story image guides, shipping mania, art, and more. Go to hof-story dot tumblr dot com (there may be some spoilers here and there so be advised!) - happy reading!

**32BBY  
** **Theed, Naboo**

It was midsummer now. A season the people of Naboo celebrated joyously every year with solstice festivals and galas that filled temples and districts planetwide. Cities and villages festooned themselves with sunny garlands and the bountiful blooms that autumn would soon wither. Lake country bustled with vacationing swimmers and boating expeditions. Theatres and art shows were held in outdoor spaces to entertain and inspire the masses underneath the cozy blanket of summer's kind warmth. Children could be heard laughing during twilight as they chased the gently glowing and ever elusive firewing bugs.

This year was not like that. No garlands of flowers hung in decoration, no celebrations commenced. Lake country remained quiet and afraid, no vacationers to be found. The theaters were dark and empty. And no children were allowed out after sundown.

Deep within the palace grounds in the crown jewel city of Theed, a lone figure walked quickly across the cobblestone courtyard of security personnel quarters. Dressed in an off-duty combination of leggings, boots, and a tunic over long sleeves, she wore her hair in a simple braid looped twice at the back of her head. With her she carried a canvas bag of market goods: greens, stone-fruit and lemons, a crusty loaf of bread, and freshly caught fish wrapped in paper and tied with twine. The sunlight was warm and soft today, the breeze pleasant, the air fragrant. Birds sang sweet little songs, butterflyas fluttered lazily from petal to petal. On the surface, a perfect summer's day. And yet… it was anything but.

Sabé Nebira came to the door of her palace-sanctioned apartment and shifted her bag to her other arm then paused and peered up at the sky, searching the cloudless azure while trying to make sense of it for the hundredth time: the appearance of normal circumstances paired with the contrasting reality that Naboo was in deep peril.

Somewhere hidden up there in the pristine crystal expanse, the Trade Federation blockade lurked quietly, holding the entire planet hostage. It had been a sum of twenty-three days so far, and Nubians were beginning to feel the strain of the halted imports and exports—that and the growing anxiety over not knowing when or _how_ this would end was making the people restless and cagey. Markets were thinner in supplies of offworld goods, outlooks were growing more tense, travel bans and a curfew were both in place to keep citizens as safe as possible. From what exactly? No one was sure, and that perhaps was the worst part of it all. Fear and mistrust permeated the entire populace, and even though most schools and government and workplaces hadn't shut down, there was the constant ominous feeling that _this_ would be the day it all shattered apart. It was easy to see in the nervous smiles tainting the faces of all the people here as they tried to go about their daily business; the way people looked over their shoulders and glanced at the sky frequently. Like Sabé was doing right now. It was like they were all ready to run. But run _where_?

Just then there was the feeling of someone coming to stand beside Sabé. A short someone. "Bay?"

The voice and nickname brought her out of the more nerve-wracked thoughts and Sabé smiled, looking down into her younger sister's freckled face peering up curiously. At eleven, Zana was small for her age and wiry. Her hair, an identical shade of pina tree bark to Sabé's, was parted down the middle and plaited into two intricately looped buns perched on the top of her head like little ears. Her schoolgirl's uniform, a dark plum and charcoal bodysuit, was just a little bit too big on her, and her backpack was _definitely_ too big. She was in that delicate, strange phase between child and woman that Sabé remembered keenly as being awkward and quite frankly annoying.

"Hi songbird, how was your day?" Sabé asked, hiding her worries easily under a relaxed smile as she resumed what she'd been doing: unlocking the door of their quarters. Pressing her palm to the scanner, the elegant chrome and sandstone door beeped in response and whooshed open. The girls went together into their home, door automatically sealing behind them. It wasn't very often that they were home at the same time.

Their quarters were similar to the rest of the housing in this section of palace service personnel apartments. While the living spaces were small and simple, they were still luxurious and no detail was overlooked: tall marble ceilings gleamed down over smooth maroon walls, and elegant, functional furnishings made the home cozy and comfortable. The kitchenette was small and prim, neatly kept and straightforward. Two closet-sized bedrooms were off to either side of the main area, and one fresher for both occupants was tucked away toward the back. There were very few personal touches around the hardly lived in space. A small potted plant on a wall shelf and a gleaming stone statuette of Amora—the goddess of safety—and then a couple of Sabé's awards for distance running and markmanship hung nearby too. Set onto the end table by the couch was a holophoto of the girls' parents playing the same clip forever and ever: Lona and Delff Nebira smiling and waving, then kissing each other briefly as they laughed. That was a photo from the last day Sabé and Zana ever saw their mother and father alive. Six years had passed since, but it felt like much more.

Sabé set her market bag down and sighed tiredly, trying to remember what day of the week it was. An odd mixture of guilt, fatigue, stress, and fear weighed on her. Guilt because she was so absent in her sister's life—the rest of the feelings due to the nature of her job. She was on-duty most of the time right now, at least six days a week if not more, often spending the night in the palace and not setting a foot into her home for what felt like weeks… leaving Zana to raise herself, essentially.

Before Sabé was a royal handmaiden and simply another security officer in the ranks of palace guard, life hadn't felt like too much to hold in her hands—it had been manageable, comfortable even. Things had changed so drastically seven months ago with Amidala's election and Sabé's switch in position from palace guard to handmaiden. Gone were the days of security uniforms and a blaster at her side for the world to see. She now lived her days in gowns designed to conceal details of her identity, merging herself into the Queen's handmaiden attendance. A quiet, flowered army. While they appeared like harmless and genteel ladies of the court, they were all bodyguards when it came down to it. Underneath their robes were weapons, and they were all trained in self defense and combat. _Some newer at it than others though_ , Sabé thought with mild chagrin. She currently was the most highly trained and highest ranking within the handmaiden assembly, and sometimes, it felt like the other handmaidens resented her for it or excluded her because of it.

"Do they think the blockade will end soon?" Zana asked, nudging Sabé out of her thoughts. She had set her backpack down and was pulling out her datapad as she perched on the couch. Presumably to do classwork.

Sabé paused in the middle of taking the bread out of the bag, thinking about how to word herself even as she realized that Zana didn't answer her initial question about how her day had gone. She chose to overlook it and mulled over the blockade question. Being in the new Queen's service meant Sabé was privvy to a lot of information the general public wasn't cleared to know—for example, the fact that sometime today some ambassadors from the Senate were supposed to be meeting with Federation leaders up there in space above somewhere. _More bureaucracy,_ Sabé thought artlessly. She wasn't partial to the game of politics and didn't place much faith into a solution dropping out of the sky. "They… think the opposite," Sabé said, settling on a vague truth. She gave her sister an understanding but thin smile meant to inspire some optimism. " _But_ … we don't know. It could end tomorrow for all I know."

Zana contemplated the answer uneasily for a couple of seconds, then set her datapad down and came to the kitchenette to help. "Classmates of mine are saying it's going to come to invasion soon. War maybe." She looked up at Sabé with candid, scared eyes. "Do you think so? What do we do if they come for us?"

Sabé was suddenly aware of just how terribly absent she'd been from Zana's life lately. Another wave of guilt hit as she regretted the credit she gave her sister sometimes and how easily she could forget how young she was and how frightening it must be. The irony was, they were in this situation because Sabé was trying to provide for them both. "We'll fight, I hope," she answered hesitantly, knowing how unlikely that was given the pacifist nature of her planet and its people. Seeing her sister's worried expression, Sabé left the kitchen things aside for a moment to kneel down and take her by either arm for gentle emphasis. "Peace is important, Zana. Always. But when a threat comes to our peace, we can't lay down and do nothing—we have to _fight_ for our right to peace."

Zana didn't look convinced. She had never loved Sabé's affinity for self-defense, for weaponry, for tactical training. She would much rather make peace, walk away, or try to ignore confrontation. But Sabé hadn't exactly joined the Palace Guard six years ago on a whim… she'd done it to be able to take care of Zana. After all, the guard program had offered a salary, living arrangements, and continued education—all things that had been very important when they lost their parents and were suddenly on their own in the world. If Sabé hadn't done that and proven in a special court hearing that she was not yet a capable of financially caring for them both, they would have been separated. Not something Sabé had been willing to do. Huffing, Zana's expression was bitter and her eyes looked off into the unseen as she stood at the kitchen counter. "They chose to do this to us because they know we're pacifists, didn't they?" she asked quietly. A wise young lady indeed.

Sabé recognized in herself the same anger and sadness she heard in her sister's voice. Her heart broke a little bit as she wished she could protect her from this. "Yes, I think so," she replied softly, grieved for her people. The lack of help or answers. The absolute dead-end they were up against. But she couldn't relay how hopeless and afraid she was. Instead she gently touched her sister's cheek, drawing her gaze intently. "Zana, I promise. Things will be all right. _Somehow_." She smiled again, but it was more difficult this time. "The galaxy hasn't forgotten about us," Sabé said, so convincing that she could believe it for a second too. "Neither has the Republic." And with that, Sabé decided it was time to change the subject. She stood to her full height, trying for an encouraging tone. "Come on, enough worrying over things we can't change. We need to start dinner before we're too hungry." She smiled and brought a little playfulness into her voice and expression. "I got your favorite…"

Instantly Zana perked up a bit. "Fish?" she asked, a little hopefulness appearing on her young face as her eyes flickered to the bag of food items that had been brought in.

"With lemon and toast," Sabé said, grinning a bit because Zana lit up. It was her favorite meal, one they'd grown up eating on their family farm in a different lifetime. They hadn't had it in forever.

For a precious few breaths, it was like a scene out of happier days and the blockade was out of sight and mind as the girls set to work in a rare moment of domestic normalcy. Zana pulled the fish out to unwrap and oil it as Sabé began to chop herbs. She was just about to ask Zana about her day again when it happened. The transmission that would change their day—and lives—forever.

A sharp beep on Sabé's wrist comm caused Sabé's face to fall into confusion and then apprehension as her limbs and hands froze their work. When off duty, she wasn't supposed to hear from anyone on this specific line of communication unless… _emergency._ Her stomach dropped and her mouth went to cotton even as she lifted the comm to her lips and answered. Maybe it was just an accidental hail. Maybe someone wasn't following protocol. "Nebira," she managed, her pulse skyrocketing and hand shaking.

Panaka's voice, a shout, came booming through. Her worst fears were realized even before he said more than two words. His tone said it all. "Nebira, the Federation is invading us—do you hear me?! _We're being invaded._ Code zero four zero. _Now!_ "

 _Oh my gods._ Her heart lodged in her throat even as she hoarsely responded, "Copy, I'll be there in five." Dazed, she felt the room closing in on her. _Invaded._ 040 was the code for The Switch. Despite all the special training that she and the Queen had conducted together, she naively had all but dismissed the possibility that it would ever _really_ be enacted. Sabé turned slowly, numb. Zana was staring at her in horror, having overheard the news.

Sabé's voice was stunned into an almost-whisper. "We have to go."

Looking close to tears, Zana was confused. "…Invaded?" she croaked.

 _Yes. Invaded._ Sabé snapped out of her daze as adrenaline took over. She set her jaw, already kicking open a small compartment hidden in the side of their couch. Two extra blasters were hidden there, and Sabé shoved one into her waistband—"we have to go, _now_!"—then slapped the other one against Zana's chest even while dragging her sister along with her and out of their home.

* * *

It was chaos. Absolute chaos. The Queen's quarters, usually a tranquil retreat set against the constant lulling roar of waterfalls, had become mad sea of frightened people who were up against the clock with the knowledge that every moment passing brought them closer to facing their invaders. It felt surreal. Like out of some twisted nightmare. Sabé's ears worked fine yet sounds seemed muffled to her, and all she could hear was her unsteady breaths and hammering heart. _Why is no one helping us? How can this be happening?_

Even as Eirtaé and Rabé shoved and manhandled her into various parts of one of the Queen's gowns, Amidala was being scrubbed of her royal makeup and torn out of her regal red gown by Yané and Saché. As quickly as Sabé was transforming into the monarch, Amidala was becoming a mere handmaiden: Code 040.

Everyone was shouting and hurrying each other as Panaka paced near one of the panoramic windows overlooking the city, shouting into his commlink as he tried to get a handle on what was happening. Several security officers, some of them Sabé's old friends, looked unsure of what to do, gripping their weapons nervously at their posts throughout the room as they waited for orders. It was hard to catch a single word in the noise created by so many rushing, terrorized people. In a nearby corner, Zana was quaking and crying, holding herself and trying to be brave in the face of not understand _at all_. In the distance, even over the sound of the waterfalls bordering the palace, the sound of huge machinery and transports approaching could be heard.

Sabé squeezed her eyes shut in a desperate bid to calm herself amid the contagious panic in the room and the sound of the approaching enemy. Her ears were ringing. _Don't think. Breathe. Just breathe._ And then all the sounds that had been muffled became abruptly too loud.

"Hold _still_!" Eirtaé snapped at her, trembling so hard she could barely get the black overdress onto Sabé, who was knocked back just a bit by the weight. She'd never worn this gown before, only admired the intricacy of it in passing during a trip to the Queen's royal closet. It was heavier she'd anticipated, and hotter too.

Panaka swore loudly somewhere nearby. "Transmissions are out planetwide, I can't get in touch with anyone more than a few kilometers away, gods _dammit_!" Who he was talking to, if anyone, was unclear.

Amidala, now in the same ombré yellow-to-orange-to-red gown as the rest of her handmaidens (only not wearing her hood up yet), reached out and touched him on the arm, stopping him with a measured tone and calm demeanor. "Captain. Keep your head."

Her four words and the strength of presence in them rendered the rest of the room quieter. Chastened, Panaka took a moment then cleared his throat and stood a little taller, clasping his hands behind himself. "The guard on the west end of the city say they can see the invasion army approaching, Your Highness. Thousands of droids—possibly in the sum of tens of thousands—plus artillery and big machinery. My best guess is we have ten minutes before they're here. Maybe less." Yané put her hands over her mouth against a sobbing sound as Saché reached out and held her. For whose comfort, it wasn't clear. Padmé's expression flickered. Eirtaé and Rabé had gone still and a bit paler. Panaka even looked uncharacteristically shaken and emotional as he swallowed and set his jaw, anxiety filling his features. "What is your command, Milady?"

The entire room was still and painfully silent. Everyone looked to their monarch in a mixture of fear and hope and despair all at once. To subjects and the public, she was Queen Amidala. To those close to her though, she went by her given name: Padmé. And today, she looked every bit her age of fourteen. A newly-elected Queen who had suddenly found herself in the midst of the unthinkable. Only human, and short on experience ruling. How could she possibly get them out of this? What could be done? Who could save them?

Padmé drew herself up a little taller, remaining the image of purposeful calm. "We will stand down and we will do as they wish within reason. I refuse to sign the death certificates of my people, or retaliate and cause a war. There are too many of them and too few of us. We wouldn't survive. The Trade Federation…" her face flickered with emotion, "knew exactly what they were doing when they chose us." There was a heartbrokenness to her that hurt to watch.

Panaka nodded once, hard to read. "Very well, Your Highness. It seems we have no other choice."

That's when there was a soft sob from Zana. All eyes went to the child in the room, and no doubt everyone immediately thought of the rest of the children of Naboo. Sabé felt that sob on a heart level and, unable to move, held an urgent hand out. Zana ran to her, clutching Sabé's entire arm and glueing herself into her sister's side. Sabé gripped back, crushingly hard, her chest tight with pain. Eirtaé had snapped out of her frozen state and was now fastening the back of her dress as Rabé was opening the royal makeup and quickly organizing the components. It was all happening so fast. And then Zana made the connection. "Why are they making you look like the Queen?" she asked in a stricken whisper.

Sabé's face was contorting with distress as she tried to think of how to explain. She hadn't told Zana about this of course. It was top level clearance only, a highly classified secret safety precaution that Panaka had come up with. The Switch. Only handmaidens and the guards in this room knew about it. And while Sabé hadn't put the possibility of _someday_ at _some point_ seeing The Switch happen… she hadn't imagined it would be this soon or feel this life-or-death. A somber thought was settling in her bones: _I might not come back from this_. The enormity of the situation was becoming more real with every passing heartbeat. It was enough to make her instincts buck wildly, telling her to run and hide, save herself. But that wasn't who she was committed to being. It was now the moment to step up… and so Sabé stepped up. She pushed her panic and terror down—they would do nothing but make her sloppy. She drew her resolve and strength and turned her back on the fears. Brushing her hand against Zana's cheek, she forced a bittersweet smile. "It's to protect the true Queen in dire circumstances. Like this one." Her sister's eyebrows worked oddly as she tried to understand. Sabé was very gentle. "I agreed to this Zana. I've trained for it."

Zana's tearstreaked face registered a quick catalogue of emotions. Surprise, fear, confusion, mild betrayal. "But if people think you're the Queen… you could get _hurt!_ " she protested as if that would change Sabé's mind.

Such an innocent statement. Such a true reality. It put a hard-to-swallow lump in her throat. "Yes. I know." Risking things a bit, Sabé knelt down despite the cumbersome dress. Her hood wasn't up and makeup wasn't applied yet, so she still looked like herself. _Felt_ like herself. She grasped her sister on either arm, trying to think what to say in case this was a last goodbye. "I have to do this. It's my job." Her voice broke despite her best attempts. "Promise me you'll always be brave."

Zana crumpled and hugged Sabé hard. She was shaking her head no. "I don't know how without you," she whispered fiercely, holding back sobs valiantly. The sound of machines coming closer was becoming louder and louder. The sisters drew apart and there were no right words to say. Only a tear rolling down Sabé's cheek despite her best efforts.

Nearby, Panaka was relaying the Queen's command over his comm to anyone who could hear the message: _Stand down. No resistance. Do not fight._ Just beside her, Padmé placed a gentle but urgent hand onto her decoy's shoulder. "Sabé, I'm so sorry, but we don't have much time."

Sabé nodded and cleared her throat, wiping her cheek roughly and hugging Zana again before standing to receive the royal makeup. She didn't let go of her sister's little hand, but instead looked over at the Captain, an unspoken plea in her eyes. He hesitated, then nodded so faintly it could be missed.

"Gregar," Panaka said sharply, calling over one of the security officers. His nephew. A friend of Sabé's. "Take care of little Zana," Panaka directed, much more gently. Gregar nodded stiffly—he was clearly afraid too. "I want you to take her, plus Yané and Saché and Officer Ludo with you into the crypts and hide there. Stay together, wait for word from us. And _do not lose hope_." He gripped his nephew's forearm hard and Gregar nodded intensely, gripping back.

"Yes Captain."

Rabé was now applying the royal white powder onto Sabé's face with incredible swiftness. Sabé closed her eyes, feeling the brush flutter over her cheeks, eyelids, forehead, jaw. She squeezed Zana's hand hard, three times. _I love you_. Zana squeezed back three times to answer. Their special little tradition. Papa had taught them that. Eirtaé carefully placed the amulet and its chain across Sabé's now snow-white forehead as Rabé dotted one bloodred circle onto either cheek. Sabé felt Zana's hand slip out of hers and opened her eyes. Gregar had collected Zana with a kind smile and a hand on her back to guide her steps. They knew each other, since Sabé and Gregar had both been in training together for years now, and Sabé was overwhelmed with relief and gratitude. If she couldn't be the one to watch over her sister, her second choice would be Gregs. The group of them: Gregar, Zana, Yané and Saché, plus Ludo began to move out—Zana looking back anxiously even as she was escorted away, into a secret passage that was behind an elegant, floorlength watercolor painting of the goddess of peace, Lailana.

Even as her sister disappeared— _will I see her again?_ —Sabé felt the lipstick being applied. A full upper red lip and a single splitting red line down the center of the bottom lip. The scar of remembrance. Even as it went on, Eirtaé was tugging up the hood of the dress to hide everything except Sabé's face—and then Padmé herself put the grand feather headpiece in for her. Over Rabé's shoulder, Sabé caught sight of herself in the full length gilded mirror and was startled. She no longer saw herself there, but Queen Amidala. Everyone seemed to see it at the same time: how incredibly uncanny the resemblance was. How flawlessly a handmaiden had become the queen and a queen had become handmaiden. Padmé drifted to stand beside her decoy, joining her in looking at their reflection in silent awe.

The Queen shook her head ever so shallowly. "You look so much like me…" She turned and looked at Sabé directly, grasping both of her hands earnestly, visibly searching for words. Their time together preparing for this had never felt so critical. The late nights practicing her Queen voice, mannerisms, etiquette. It had been work, but it had also been friendship. Padmé's soft brown eyes were full of emotion. "I never thought it would actually come to this, Sabé." It almost seemed like an apology or a regret.

Sabé stood a little taller and returned Padmé's sad gaze with strong eye contact, feeling a new pressure to hold everything together and keep up the group's morale. Perhaps the disguise of royal clothing and makeup gave her strength—she felt invincible in that moment somehow. "I'm ready, Milady." And it was true. There was nothing left but to be ready. She had trained for this and more, and would meet any challenge the way she knew best: with everything she had.

A soft, bittersweet smile from the Queen. "I know you are."

The newly elected monarch, four years Sabé's junior, seemed so superhuman in some moments: when addressing her people, when meeting with lawmakers, when investigating the issues her people brought to her. But in this moment, she was just Padmé. "Are _you_ ready?" Sabé asked softly. A question from one friend to another. Because that's what they had become, and Sabé could sense her Queen's unrest.

Padmé's eyes seemed to glisten faintly. "All I know is I'm so glad that you're by my side right now." She looked over to Rabé and Eirtaé. "All of you." She then drew a deep breath and put her hood up wordlessly, finalizing the transformation. She beckoned Rabé and Eirtaé over and the four of them huddled close in an unplanned group embrace. "Shall we pray?" Padmé asked gently, and there was a murmur of approval from Rabé and Eirtaé. Sabé, not one for religion, respected the request by remaining huddled in and holding hands as Padmé whispered pleas for safety, wisdom, and solution to several Naboo deities. Sabé glanced over at Panaka who stood with an anxious hold to his posture and darting eyes nervously flickering between the praying women and the windows looking out over the city. The sound of marching, metallic in nature, was very close now. As soon as Padmé closed her prayer with, "and so we plead," Panaka seized the opportunity.

"Ladies, we should go to the throne room and prepare to receive company. I can see them on the street now."

Sabé's heart lurched with nerves but she complied, leading the way as the Queen would. The handmaidens and guards followed. At the doorway, Panaka stopped Sabé with a hand on her shoulder. He said nothing, but his grim gaze and the touch conveyed many things: trust, sorrow, encouragement, empathy, worry. Sabé gave him a firm nod, betraying nothing else away other than that she was there with him in this. They had been through a lot in her six years under his command. He was almost family at this point. Albeit the sour, nitpicking uncle that wasn't much fun to be around most of the time… but family all the same. He had seen her from a scrappy new recruit to an accomplished and capable guard, then recommended her and encouraged her to apply for the position of royal handmaiden. He probably thought of her as family too—the stubborn, sometimes reckless, often outspoken niece he'd rather someone else have to deal with… but family all the same.

On the way to the throne room, Padmé and Sabé convened briefly, with Padmé giving her lowly and quickly spoken instructions on how to approach this situation. They had to stall, and hope the Senate and their Ambassadors would intervene. Padmé wanted Sabé to be cooperative in the moment, but under no circumstances was she to give in to any demands that would escalate or change the situation. Say as little as possible, be vague, be lofty.

They all entered into the throne room quietly where Governor Sio Bibble waited, as well as a few other dignitaries in their usual seats. An emotional and reactionary man, Bibble was the first one who would unknowingly talk to the decoy queen. This was the first and perhaps greatest test, since he was so familiar and worked so closely with Amidala on a daily basis.

"This is unconscionable!" he cried, jumping to his feet as they entered the throne room. He immediately made a beeline for Sabé. "The Federation has gone too far! Queen Amidala, what is your plan of action?" Behind him, the dignitaries hung on every word, anxiety apparent in the way they sat in their seats.

Sabé held his gaze, feeling her pulse quick underneath the veil of her skin. So far, he hadn't seemed to notice anything different. This was the moment of truth. Sabé used her carefully practiced Queen's voice to reply to him: a deep, smooth monotone that was accented lightly. "We will stand down, Governor. Peacefully, as to not make the situation worse."

"But Your Highness—!" he protested, even as Sabé made to move past him.

"The entire planet hangs in the balance, Governor," she said firmly, keeping her stride at a queenly speed as Padmé always did. She was pleased and relieved and yet still so overwrought that she could collapse—all at the same time. He didn't suspect a thing, but she had to remain careful not to do anything to give it away. To him or anyone else. "It truly breaks my heart, but for the safety of everyone, we have no other option but to surrender."

Bibble said nothing else and hung back with a hopeless expression. The other dignitaries exchanged glances and then left, like leaves blowing in the wind. No doubt to try and make it to their families. Or hide. But Bibble remained. He may have been exasperating at times, but he was a true loyalist. And for that, Sabé respected him. Liked him, no not really. But respected yes.

She contemplated the throne as she arrived to it for a few heartbeats, the reality sinking in of all the horrifying unknowns ahead. _So be it. What will happen will happen._ And then with all the grace and dignity she had always seen Padmé sit with, she took her seat in the throne for the first time, and placed a graceful hand on either side of it. A brief moment of awe overcame her. _Mama if you could see your daughter now._ Bibble silently went back to his seat, and there he sat with his hands clasped in prayer or anxiousness. Maybe both. The handmaidens took positions on either side of Sabé, with Padmé stationing herself at a column a few feet removed. Panaka stood opposite of Padmé and clasped his hands behind himself. He and Sabé exchanged the briefest of glances: The Switch was working. A small relief in a dark situation.

And there they waited, in tense silence. There was little else but the sound of approaching marching. Then one, two, three blaster rounds. A scream. _Did someone just get shot?_ Sabé glanced at Padmé, who flanked her to the far left. She had her jaw clenched and her eyes were full of unshed tears.

"Federation forces are inside the palace," came a breathless, low-res voice over Panaka's comm.

"Stand down, do as they say," Panaka replied, obviously hating every word he uttered.

Sabé felt her breathing quicken as adrenaline nauseated her. She stayed stock still, willing herself to be calmer by breathing slowly and intentionally. Panaka looked sick too. Rabé and Eirtaé, faces obscured by hoods, were still visibly frightened by the quick rise and fall of their chests. The way Eirtaé's fingers worked at her sides. Padmé raised her chin a bit… maybe trying to make herself feel braver.

They all listened to the sound of many approaching footsteps now on palace floors, the terrified anticipation causing the spacious ballroom-sized space to feel claustrophobic and cagelike. A moment later, the large throne room door whooshed open to reveal a group of bone-beige spindly droids, blasters clutched at their chests. The leader, designated by a rust red color across its chest and parts of its head, addressed the guards as they came in in a metallic growl. "Lay down your weapons."

Panaka and the other officers did as they were told, even as the droids moved in to encircle them all. Two Neimoidians brought up the rear: Nute Gunray with Rune Haako trailing closely behind. Gunray, Viceroy of the Federation, sauntered in with pride, while Haako's gait and posture was more a simpering, cowering limp. Gunray came to stand in the center of the room directly opposite of Sabé, his drooping, reptilian face and large soulless bug eyes made it difficult not to leap out of her seat and destroy him then and there. Anger ate her alive inside as she thought of how many ways she could kill him where he stood. "Ah, Your Highness," he greeted smugly.

Sabé stood up calmly, putting steel into her voice and leaving emotion off of her face. "Viceroy. What is the meaning of this invasion?"

"I regret to inform you our negotiations are over, and you are our prisoner until further notice," he said, stepping aside and motioning for the exit. "Come with us."

She knew the directive. _Comply._ Sabé took a beat to stare into his eyes icily, then did as he said, hearing the rest of the small group fall into step behind her. Bibble came to her side and they exited the throne room, droids on all sides of them as they began to descend the grand staircase.

"How will you explain this invasion to the Senate?" Bibble demanded.

"The Queen and I will sign a treaty to legitimize our operation here," Gunray purred. "I have assurances it will be ratified by the Senate."

Sabé's entire body went cold. Would Padmé would remain silent or correct this slime-ridden scum? She went with her instinct and made sure her voice was strong and acidic. "I will sign no treaty."

The Viceroy was unaffected, perhaps even amused. "Now now, Your Highness. In time, the suffering of your people will persuade you to see our point of view." A threat that she clenched her teeth and hands at. They stopped at the foot of the staircase, where the Neimoidian addressed a new group of droids that waited there. "Commander."

The reply came in a robotic, tinny voice. "Yes sir."

"Process them."

The droid nodded to another one. "Captain, take them to camp four."

"Roger roger."

Camp Four. So they were establishing camps already and taking prisoners of war. This invasion was well planned and executed, not a last minute decision or a desperate gamble. More rage burned inside Sabé, as well as helplessness. Desperate, ridiculous, disconnected thoughts of what they should have done to better prepare for this filled her mind as they went with the new group of droids. Through the familiar interior of the royal palace they went, across gleaming floors down hallways with ceilings so tall that twenty men stacking straight up wouldn't be close to touching the top. Sabé vaguely remembered walking these hallways not even two hours ago with no idea of what laid ahead. With a false sense of security. Now everything familiar seemed tainted and unsafe, ruined by these monsters.

The grand entrance of the palace was eerily devoid of the guard—a sight Sabé had never seen in her time here. She had stood guard in this exact place many days over the years herself. The droids led them out of the palace and the bright sunlight that they walked out into was offensive somehow. As they descended the grand staircase outside, they could see other groups of citizens being rounded up and herded like cattle in the regal plaza. It was then she realized: _They're parading us like this to let people see their Queen captured._ More anger churned in her gut, and Sabé made herself put it aside. She wondered where Zana was, and hoped so badly that she and the rest had made it to the crypts. Droids wouldn't have much luck navigating around down there—it was the safest place to hide.

When they reached ground level, they walked at a brisk pace, almost marching, exiting the wide expanse of the palace plaza for smaller streets. These were mostly private residences—and they passed by a few other droid squadrons that were extracting citizens from their homes… citizens who saw their Queen being marched away by the enemy and visibly became distraught at the sight. They kept going, toward the riverside district, and soon saw no more people or droids. What camp could they have already established? What would happen once they were there? The decoy queen had a very bad feeling about this.

They turned a corner and went down an even smaller street that was completely quiet. Then, out of nowhere, two figures robed in brown dropped from an overhead bridgeway—even as everyone droid and human alike came to a startled halt, two swords of brilliant crackling light blazed into existence and the two men who wielded them attacked, cutting droids to pieces in a matter of seconds and sending some flying without even touching them. And then it was over. Sabé stared breathlessly at the droid remains at her feet, adrenaline rushing and mouth dropped softly open. One second the group had been surrounded by these metallic captors and the next, pieces of twisted, burnt metal laid around them harmlessly. She looked back up, momentarily caught off guard, and found herself face to face with a young man with short brown hair and piercing blue eyes. He had just twirled his weapon artfully for no perceivable reason at all, and his gaze locked with hers. She didn't miss the curious way he looked at her face, and she was sure she looked the same way at him. His small side braid, his weapon, the recognizable robes covering a very distinct tunic she'd seen only in photos and videos. Revelation hit her like a tsunami as she stared back at him: _these were Jedi Knights._

"We should leave the street, Your Highness," said someone else, and Sabé remembered the other stranger—he was motioning for them all to break right. Panaka and the guards grabbed weapons and Bibble's hand touched Sabé's shoulder as he guided her toward a sideway—essentially an alleyway that ran adjacent to roads and was sheltered from view in many places.

In a daze, Sabé walked but didn't feel her legs. The group got out of sight from the street and the other Jedi spoke, establishing himself as the leader. "I'm Qui-Gon Jinn and this is my apprentice Obi-Wan Kenobi," he said. Qui-Gon was a tall, solidly built man who appeared to be in his late forties. He had long hair that was half pulled back, and an intense but calm energy about him. "We're ambassadors for the Supreme Chancellor."

 _These_ were the ambassadors? Surprised, Sabé looked sideways briefly, stealing another appraising glance at the other Jedi—Obi-Wan. It was like he sensed her gaze, because his eyes slid to hers. She quickly looked away.

"Your negotiations seem to have failed, Ambassador," Bibble retorted.

"The negotiations never took place," Qui-Gon replied readily, to which Sabé felt a chill. "It's urgent that we make contact with the Republic."

Panaka stepped forward a bit. "They've knocked out all our communications."

"Do you have transports?"

"In the main hangar." Panaka took initiative, and shouldered past. "This way." Thankfully they were close to the hangar and the small group was able to steal through sideways and streets without being spotted. They had to hide and wait for a couple of squads of droids to pass a couple of times, and during each instance, Sabé tried not to gawk or look at the Jedi, especially the younger one. She had never seen or met one in person, only heard stories and varying opinions about them from others. He caught her looking at him every time.

When they got to the hangar bay, a quick glance into a side entrance revealed groups of pilots being held by at least twenty droids if not more. Panaka shook his head, already giving up. "There are too many of them."

Qui-Gon didn't seem to agree. "Won't be a problem." He turned to look directly across Obi-Wan and at Sabé for the first time. "Your Highness, under the circumstances, I suggest you and your party come to Coruscant with us."

He was suggesting that she flee the planet… an option that hadn't crossed her mind until now. It was hard to know exactly what Padmé would say and do in this situation, but Sabé didn't think leaving was an in character choice for Queen Amidala. "Thank you, Ambassador. But my place is with my people."

Qui-Gon was eerily, calmly convinced of his next statement. "They will kill you if you stay."

Words that shocked and admittedly scared her. Next to her, Sabé felt Obi-Wan shift to look at her, and she looked back at him, not sure what she was searching for but needing to find it regardless. _Can we trust you?_ His energy wasn't immediately apparent like Qui-Gon's was.

"They wouldn't _dare_ kill the queen _,_ " Sio Bibble was saying, sounding offended by the idea.

"They need her to sign a treaty to make this invasion of theirs legal," Panaka added. "They can't afford to kill her."

Qui-Gon addressed Sabé again, gentle yet urgent. "There is something else behind all this Your Highness, there's no logic in the Federation's actions here." She agreed immediately, and listened to him intently. "They attempted to kill the two of us when we arrived to negotiate—do not make the mistake of underestimating how far these treacherous leeches will go."

Attempted murder? Sabé received this news with shock and a surge of realization that they were being woefully naive about the Trade Federation's true character and intentions.

"Gods alive," Bibble breathed across from her, then fixed Sabé with a pleading look. "In that case, our only hope is for the Senate to side with us and intervene. Senator Palpatine will be able to help us, I'm sure of it. Go there and tell him what's happened here—I'll remain here and do what I can."

Everyone was now looking at her, and Sabé felt the pressure weighing on her with a slight panic. _Making it past the blockade will be a deathwish. Staying here might get us all killed too. If we leave, are we abandoning our people? Will the Senate even be able to help us? I can't make this decision. How do I get Padmé's input?!_ Sabé took a long couple of seconds, then realized she knew exactly how. "Leaving will present great danger." She turned her head toward Padmé. "To us all."

Padmé turned her head toward her and answered in kind, telling Sabé everything she needed to know. "We are brave, Your Highness."

"If we are to leave, Your Highness, it must be now," Qui-Gon said.

Sabé glanced again at Obi-Wan who had not yet said a word or given much away about himself. She was both suspicious and intrigued by these Jedi, and knew better than to think she had a solid read on Qui-Gon yet. But as she searched Obi-Wan's eyes for the briefest of seconds, something in her heart of hearts and the most trusted place in her gut said to trust them. It was their only hope. So Sabé let her gaze go to Qui-Gon's. She set her jaw and let the metaphorical hammer swing. "Then I will plead our case to the Senate." Qui-Gon nodded, and without a wasted second, began to go into the hangar, motioning for everyone else to follow. Sabé grasped Sio Bibble's hand briefly as she and the rest of the entourage made to follow. "Be careful Governor."

"Go with peace and swiftness, Milady," he murmured, worry written on his features.

"So we plead," Sabé replied, already brushing past in a whisper of feathered gown into the hangar bay. Close by her, Obi-Wan fell into stride protectively, and even though she had no idea what his master was planning or doing, she felt a twinge of hope for the first time since receiving word of the invasion.

* * *

_**Author's Notes:** Welcome to chapter one! Please leave your thoughts or say hi in a review :) Zana's faceclaim (while child/teenaged) is Hattie Gotobed, and her name is pronounced Zah-nah, just FYI! Can't wait to dive into the story. Expect chapter 2 sometime in February hopefully sooner rather than later._


	2. Cautious Alliance

**Three Years Ago  
** **Royal Naboo Security Forces Headquarters  
** **Theed, Naboo**

_Thwack thwack thwack! Thwack!_

The rhythmic hits of sparring staffs echoed in the large gymnasium hall. Floor to ceiling transparisteel windows let in the light of another beautiful spring day into the large space that was furnished with fitness equipment, weights, climbing walls, and padded combat training spaces. A group of new ensigns to the Royal Security Forces was circled up in the middle of the vast training space. They surrounded two figures wearing helmets and tactical jumpsuits and the two of them were engaged in quite the hand-to-hand combat battle with their staffs. Captain Panaka watched with folded arms and a little smile, enjoying his favorite new-recruit activity: letting one of his higher ranking officers fight the most cocky new fledgling.

The new ensign he'd chosen was a tall, well-muscled young man by the name of Gash Ajonzay, and from the first time Panaka saw him smugly swagger into the building, he'd known that Gash was going to be his choice. Opposite Gash, a much smaller, shorter, and more lithe female who up until now, had been deliberately toying with the ensign—but he didn't know that of course. Panaka had seen this exact same situation play out enough times to recognize that she was about to change the narrative. This was where it got truly entertaining.

They squared up again, squatting down slightly with their staffs held by two hands at either end as they each sized the other up. And then without warning, the attack was unleashed by the smaller of the two with blazing speed she hadn't even come close to showing until now. She pressed him back with blow after blow he struggled to keep up with—some he missed completely, sustaining blows to his helmet, shoulder, torso, and thigh. Each time he sounded more and more astonished and angry, and with each second that passed, he got sloppier. The element of surprise gained by tricking her opponent into thinking she was a mediocre opponent was her signature approach. Psychological warfare, Panaka liked to call it.

The watchers excitedly shouted and whooped as Gash tried desperately to keep up and regain his footing. Instead, he got thwacked in the side of the head, and with his dazed condition, his opponent pushed for the finale. With a great cry, she flipped over him completely, using her staff to catapult herself over his height—an impressive if unnecessary show of skills. She landed lightly, even as he tried to turn in time to block her coming strike. He wasn't quick enough and she jammed the brunt of it hard into the chin area, using more force than she had used before—all carefully calculated and executed, as usual. Stunned, he fell back and she took the advantage, whacking his staff out of his hand and jumping onto him, pinning him to the ground with a knee in his throat as she pointed the stunning end—currently disabled—dead center in between his eyes. Through his helmet, his eyes were wide and shocked. He held his hands out as if in defense and they shook just slightly. The onlookers were all thoroughly entertained, making quite the racket.

"Match!" Panaka shouted, and the fighters separated, with the female standing up over Gash and taking off her helmet to reveal a flushed, grinning face and hair that had started off the day neatly pulled back, but was now wild, frizzing, and sticking to her sweaty face in places. It was Sabé Nebira—year three in the forces and quite the opponent as usual. She grabbed her opponent's wrist to help him up and he grasped hers back, standing up a bit woozily as he removed his helmet. He looked absolutely blindsided, not to mention flustered.

Panaka put his hands behind his back and addressed the onlooking ensigns in a loud, clear voice. "As you can see, Corporal Nebira here is quite the challenge in hand-to-hand combat. Within six months of training with the forces… _maybe_ some of you will have a chance at besting her." Sabé's face nonverbally and subtly gave her opinion on the matter: doubtful.

As the other ensigns laughed—some nervously and others in good nature—Sabé turned to Gash and grabbed then shook his hand hard, whether he liked it or not. "See you in a few months for a rematch?"

He mumbled something, embarrassed, then slunk back into the group to lick his metaphorical wounds. Standing a bit further back, watching with an entertained little grin, Gregar Typho shook his head as Sabé spotted him and sent a brief, conspiratorial smile his way.

After a few more of Panaka's orientation statements where Sabé stood at ease beside him with hands clasped uniformly behind her back, he handed everyone off to Lieutenant Jolana, who ran most of the training program, and then dismissed Sabé to go get cleaned up. Gregar waited for her and they fell into step. "Gods alive Nebira, go easy on those kids will you?" he joked.

"Where's the fun in that?" she asked breezily, then cocked an eyebrow at him. "Can't help that I'm so good, Gregs," she said as she pulled off her gloves. He was giving her quite the look as they entered the unisex locker room. "What?!" she asked, the picture of good humor and confidence. "If you're just mad that I outrank you, say it."

Gregar rolled his eyes, but he was still smiling—she had a year on him in terms of service, but he _was_ older than her so it did sometimes dig at his pride. "You're insufferable."

"Oh I've never heard _that_ one," she replied, a rogueish smile pulling at the side of her mouth. She pulled her locker open and deftly caught the towel Gregar tossed her.

"Speaking of being called insufferable, how's Zana been lately?" Gregar asked lightheartedly.

The question earned him a good-natured whack on his arm with her gloves. "Oh stop it you," she said in equal measure of playfulness, but he noticed how her bravado flickered a bit and her guard perceptibly raised a fraction. "We're both doing as good as possible, I think." She rubbed her sweaty face and neck with the towel.

Gregar paused a moment, considering what to say. Sabé was a private person who was more comfortable sparring physically or verbally than talking about the things more close to her heart. He'd known her for two years but many things about her were still a mystery. Gregar respected the clear indication that she didn't want to talk about personal things more. She was only fourteen, but seemed much older and always had since he first met her. After he'd learned that she was raising and providing for her sister, pursing higher education for herself, _and_ serving the Royal Forces, he had come to regard her very highly. And Zana was a delightful child: incredibly smart, witty like her sister, and sweet in nature. "Well bring her by some more, it's always great to have her around." He meant it.

Sabé smiled a little, but the more boisterous energy was gone. She tossed the towel into a nearby bin. "You know she hates fighting and all that." A soft sigh as she ran her hands over her scalp in an attempt to tame the flyaways. "She's a staunch Naboo pacifist through and through."

"Then bring her to our _quilt knitting_ day," Gregar joked, which earned him a grin.

"Nebira. Typho." The sound of Captain Panaka's stern voice zapped the humorous mood instantly and both officers straightened up and became serious-faced as the captain marched up to them with his datapad extended as if to show them something. "These firing range results I just received from last week are unacceptable, _both_ of you."

Sabé grabbed the datapad from him in disbelief, earning a disgruntled look that she didn't notice. "My marks are nearly perfect!" she protested as she scanned the screen.

Panaka took the datapad back just as rudely as she had taken it from him as he gave her a steely look. "' _Nearly_ ' isn't good enough, Corporal." His tone was admonishing, an unspoken warning in it to behave more professionally in the future. Sabé stood a little more tall and still, heeding the warning as he fixed them both with a severe, lecturing scowl. "Listen to me, _both_ of you. Someday these skills will be the difference between your life and death and you'll thank me that I insisted." He paused for emphasis, then nodded brusquely. "Report back at fourteen-hundred hours."

They knew better than to ask him what for, only chorused, "yes, Captain," and remained at attention as he turned and left. The second he was out of sight, they slumped to stand casually, their eyes went to rolling, and Sabé made a motion with her hand as if to say "get lost."

"Hardheaded old man," Gregar muttered under his breath.

That earned him a sly little smile as Sabé shut her locker and keyed the combo to secure it. "Must run in the family," she remarked, earning herself quite the wan, annoyed look from Panaka's nephew.

* * *

**Present Day**

That day three years ago, the Captain had made what seemed like a ridiculous statement about their preparedness for some kind of unforeseen disaster. Sabé and Gregar, granted more immature at the time, had dismissed the idea. And today, it was happening.

Sirens screamed and the internal lights flickered like a strobe as the queen's royal starship lurched from impact after impact as they attempted to flee Naboo and get past the Federation blockade. Sabé and the other handmaidens as well as the real queen had rushed into the ship in a daring escape from the hangar bay as the Jedi cut down enemies and cleared the way—in the chaos, Obi-Wan had freed a group of pilots and officers, many who had made the snap decision to run up the boarding ramp. It remained to be seen if the escape attempt was a good idea.

At the moment, it certainly seemed like they were doomed. The women all hung onto any part of the ship they could grab hold of in the ship's throne room as the spacecraft rocked violently. Eirtaé had her eyes squeezed shut as she frantically whispered prayers, Rabé was crying and wiping her face as Padmé clung to her—the queen looked more scared than Sabé had ever seen her. And with a hurting heart both physically and emotionally, Sabé herself came to terms with the strong possibility that she had live her last day. _I'm so sorry Zana, I shouldn't have ever agreed to becoming handmaiden. Then at least maybe we'd be together right now._ And then suddenly, just when they all assumed it was over… it all stopped. The lights stabilized, the alarm went silent, and the shuddering hits were no more. Too afraid to be relieved, all the women stood a bit from the crouched or crumpled stances they'd been in. Had they made it? A few seconds later, the ship jerked once—they'd jumped to lightspeed, just not very smoothly.

"Goddess be with us," Padmé breathed, gone a shade paler than normal. They all stood shakily, too stunned to know what to say or do for a moment. All of them were shocked that they were alive after that, and it took them a moment to calm down.

Just then down the very short hall to the cockpit, the door that had previously been sealed hissed open. Without a word, the handmaidens and Queen all moved quickly and as gracefully as possible to their stations, ad-libbing a bit of course. Padmé ended up standing directly beside Sabé, who took the throne with a still-pounding heart and a light head. The adrenaline surge had left her feeling weak and faint, so shaken up she didn't know how she was even functioning. She knew instinctively that they _all_ felt that way, but their quick regrouping gave her some strength. They were still a strong and connected team. Eirtaé was at her other side, and Rabé stood on the opposite side of the room beside the entrance even as the Captain rushed in—a bit behind him, Qui-Gon waited at the lift down to the lower level.

"Is everyone all right? Did anyone sustain an injury?" Panaka demanded. He was the picture of how shaken up they all felt, but Sabé fell into character of the Queen and answered in a solemn, measured voice.

"We are shaken up I'm sure, but we are without injury." More important things were on her mind. "Captain Panaka, what's happened?"

From the lift, Obi-Wan emerged with a very dirty looking astromech droid unit on wheeled legs, and he and his master came in, bowing as they took position near the captain. "We made it past the blockade but just barely," Panaka explained, which is the part they _all_ knew already. "The shield generator was hit. If not for the help of one very unexpected ally, we wouldn't be speaking right now." He gestured to the dingy astromech, and the headmount portion swiveled as the droid chirped in what could almost have been a friendly greeting. "An extremely well put together droid, Your Highness. Without a doubt, it saved the ship, as well as our lives."

Of all things, Sabé felt a small smile on her face that wasn't false. So they had made it, and their hero was this little metallic friend. "And for that we are eternally indebted," she said, relaxing just slightly. "What is its number?"

The droid chortled and beeped, an almost birdlike sound. Panaka leaned over and scraped a bit of dust off the side of it to read the number. "Artoo Deetoo, Your Highness."

"Thank you, Artoo Detoo. We owe you our lives… and at the very least a bit of cleanup." Sabé thought quickly and then decided to call on Padmé so that she could see her face for the rest of this interaction and gauge her reaction on whatever other news was shared. "Padmé." The queen came to stand alongside Panaka. Sabé smiled again a bit as the droid rocked back and forth on its wheeled legs in a fashion that could almost be called… cute. "See to this droid as best you can. It deserves our gratitude." With that, Sabé refocused. "Continue, Captain."

Panaka nervously glanced at the Jedi. "Well. Uh—with the damage to the hyperdrive, we've made a jump but we can only go so far. We'll need to stop somewhere for repair. Somewhere not under the Federation's thumb."

That _did_ complicate matters further, and Sabé felt a twinge of suspicion over how the usually-direct captain had been vague. Qui-Gon cut in. "Your Highness, with your permission, we are heading for a remote planet called Tatooine. It is a system far beyond the reach of the Trade Federation. There we will be able to find parts, make needed repairs, then travel onward to Coruscant."

The captain was grave. "Milady, Tatooine is a very dangerous place. It's controlled by an alliance of gangs called the Hutts. I do not agree with the Jedi on this." Sabé narrowed her eyes slightly. Was Panaka trying to tell her to refuse to go?

"You must trust my judgement, Your Highness," Qui-Gon said, and even though he appeared to be genuine and trustworthy, Panaka was giving her quite the look, trying to convey something. Sabé couldn't decipher it or what she was meant to take from it. Beside him, Padmé also looked very vexed by this strange plan.

"Must I?" Sabé responded carefully, a challenge. "What is your plan once we're on this Tatooine planet? If they're beyond the reach of the Trade Federation, I would assume they're also not part of the Republic and that our credits will be useless there."

Qui-Gon remained difficult to read. "You are correct about that." Beside him, his apprentice looked positively stone-faced, giving away nothing. "The plan will reveal itself in the moment."

The cavalier attitude bothered her immediately. "Forgive me if I seem rude, Master Jinn, but we don't have _time_ to waste hoping for answers to fall out of the sky. Not with my people held captive upon their own land." Notably, Obi-Wan looked at his master at that moment as if to gauge his reaction to her resistance. Sabé reigned herself in, being a little more diplomatic. "I would feel more comfortable if you could advise us of a specific solution to our dilemma."

Qui-Gon remained gently unmovable. "Unfortunately I can't give that to you. Only my word that we will see you through this."

Sabé remained quiet for a few beats, looking from Panaka to Padmé. The queen gave the slightest nod, but it was clear she didn't like this plan either. "I assume you've exhausted all other possible options?" Sabé asked, just to be clear.

"Yes."

Doubting it, she let a heavy breath out through her nose, then bowed her head just slightly. "Then it seems I have no choice left but to trust." She then lifted her chin and locked eyes with the Jedi master fiercely. "Master Qui-Gon, our fate is in your hands. Please. I beg you. Don't let us down."

"The Force will guide us, Your Highness," he replied kindly. "There is nothing to fear."

Easy for him to say, she thought bitterly. And the talk of the Force automatically made her feel wary. However, outwardly, she just nodded once in a carefully practiced regal way. "Very well. So be it."

"Obi-Wan will stay with the ship to watch over you when we make our landing," Qui-Gon added, and from the look on Obi-Wan's face, he had _not_ been privvy to that knowledge until that exact moment. "Anything you might need in my absence he can help you with."

Sabé watched Obi-Wan openly and he saw that she was watching him too. "Thank you, Master Jinn," she said, watching as his apprentice forcibly wiped his slightly sour expression off his face. She then looked at Panaka again. "Captain, how many do we have aboard with us?"

A grave Panaka shook his head slightly. "I haven't had a chance to count yet, Milady."

"This ship is only designed for short journeys and a passenger count of ten," Sabé said, fully aware that they had definitely acquired more than the limit with the pilots and guards who had run onboard at the last moment. Her guess as at least twenty of them if not more. Lack of physical space for everyone and dwindling supplies would present another huge issue for them if repairs weren't accomplished quickly.

"All the more reason for swiftness, Your Highness," Qui-Gon replied readily, then bowed again. "If you'll excuse us." Obi-Wan bowed too, but if it were possible to bow with an attitude, he did. Clearly, he was unhappy with his master. _Interesting. And perhaps a problem,_ Sabé thought.

After they were gone into the cockpit again, Panaka dropped his etiquette altogether. "I don't like this one bit," he muttered.

Standing up, Sabé gave him a dark look. "I doubt you'll find _anyone_ on this godsforsaken ship that likes this, Captain." In that moment, all she could think of was figuring out exactly the situation they were in. "Go do a headcount. And you'll need to do an inventory of water and supplies immediately too. Also, find out exactly what damage the ship sustained."

Panaka was giving her the look she had seen so many times before: him being irritated at her.

"Do as she says, Captain," Padmé said quietly. "I give her full trust in this."

Panaka didn't look thrilled, and his tone was flat as he address Sabé. "Go to your quarters and let me evaluate the situation. I'll report back later."

Sabé nodded and stood, her nerves shot and body still feeling weak from adrenaline. "I'll clean the droid, Milady," Eirtaé volunteered, stopping Padmé as she went toward the lift with the cheerfully beeping droid following.

Padmé shook her head. She seemed in very deep thought, like her mind was somewhere else completely. "No, I need something to do." She smiled slightly down at the droid and put a hand on it like one might a family pet. "And perhaps I'll be able to learn something useful along the way."

* * *

Sabé, Rabé, and Eirtaé all went to the royal quarters, each of them processing what was now happening in their own way. Rabé looked for a job to do to distract her, pushing Sabé toward the little salon setup beside the grand bed. "Let me fix your makeup. I had to apply it so fast, it's not right in parts."

Sabé said nothing and let her do it, even though she doubted the importance of appearances in this moment. At least sitting down would give her body time to regulate itself. "I can't believe this is happening," Eirtaé languished, wringing her hands and then falling to her knees into traditional prayer in the center of the room.

As she sat for makeup, Sabé's mind turned to worrying about what she could currently do nothing about. If she had been a praying person, she would have joined Eirtaé in beseeching the gods for the planet, its people and most of all, her sister. _She must be so afraid right now._ Sabé willed herself not to dwell on it because of her powerlessness, and instead, recited the royal Naboo constitution to herself over and over—a habit she'd formed over the years when in times of distress.

About forty five minutes passed. Panaka did not come by or report in, the ship did not seem to drop out of hyperspace, and all there was to do was fret to the point of sickness after she couldn't repeat the constitution anymore to herself. Eirtaé and Rabé decided to take inventory of the onboard wardrobe and Sabé took inventory of everything else in the main quarters. There wasn't much. Flimsies, a few pieces of royal jewelry, lotions and perfumed oils, hair styling accessories, a first aid kit, a few spare blankets, a meditation mat, but nothing else except furniture and a luxuriously designed fresher.

Finally, Padmé returned with the droid in tow, and it looked like an entirely different droid—polished white stood nicely against brilliant deep blue accented with polished silver chrome and now clearly-shining indicator lights. Relieved to have a change in pace, Sabé greeted him—the droid seemed masculine to her somehow—gladly. "Looking much better I must say, little friend." Padmé however seemed on a mission, taking her hood down and pulling her hair out of the long single braid it had been in as if she was in a hurry. Sabé frowned, sensing something was happening. "What is it? What are you doing?"

"I'm going," she said simply, beginning to shift the gathered red belting fabric off of herself.

Rabé and Eirtaé were hovering at the closet entrance in confusion with items of clothing forgotten in their hands. "Going…?" Eirtaé echoed in worry. "Going where?"

" _Offship_?" Rabé presumed in rising distress.

Sabé rose from where she'd been sitting, equally flabbergasted. "With the Jedi?"

"Milady—!" Eirtaé protested.

Padmé held up a gentle but firm hand, silencing them. "I've already decided. I'll go and ensure that this Jedi doesn't hinder more than help us. I have a feeling about him."

"I do too," Sabé said after a shocked moment's pause. "He seems… impulsive."

"Well if _that_ isn't a wookie calling a nerf hairy," Padmé commented mildly.

Sabé felt slightly embarrassed. "P—Your Highness, you know what I mean."

"Yes I do." Padmé was now pulling the outer layer of the flame-inspired gown off herself, leaving the red undersuit. "While I'm thinking of it, stop calling me any formal address. All of you. Until this is all over or unless I'm in the royal makeup, I am Padmé. A handmaiden to Queen Amidala. And that's it." She fixed them with a smile that was tempered by stress and anxiety. Sabé recognized that she was choosing to be brave—that she was as shaken and scared as the rest of them—and so they all had to be too. "Now, who's going to fix my hair?" Rabé dutifully came to her and indicated she sit down.

"Panaka is going to pitch a fit about this," Eirtaé muttered foully.

"What _doesn't_ he pitch a fit about?" Sabé retorted, helping Rabé gather combs and brushes and clips.

"Eirtaé, can you find something in the wardrobe for me that's plain and more functional?" Padmé asked.

The blonde handmaiden visibly withered. "Your wardrobe and 'plain' do not belong in the same sentence." Padmé gave the ill-tempered handmaiden a bland look—there was some notable tension between them. Eirtaé pressed her mouth into a wan line and heaved a jaded breath. "But I'll see what I can do."

* * *

**Later**

The remaining three handmaidens huddled at the small aft viewport where they could see their queen leaving with the Qui-Gon and the little group he'd assembled: himself, Artoo, and a gangly Gungan that Sabé had forgotten they somehow collected. The three of them were small dark figures against endless bleak sand. In the distance, perhaps a couple of kilometers away, a less than impressive settlement slouched. This place was unspeakably wretched and barren, putting a knot of unease deep inside Sabé's stomach. Tatooine, they'd said it was called. What a hopeless wasteland.

"This is all happening very fast," Rabé whispered. "I have a bad feeling about it all."

Eirtaé and Rabé drifted away from the viewport, but Sabé stayed, watching the retreating group grow smaller and smaller.

"Why would she leave when we need her most?" Eirtaé asked tensely, her whisper giving away how paranoid she was of being overheard. The ship was so much quieter now that it had landed. Only the cooling system remained on. _How long would that work, anyway? The generator wouldn't last forever…_

"You heard her, Eirtaé—the Jedi master isn't someone we know, and his methods seem questionable," Rabé was replying. "She needs to be part of however he gets us off this gods-forsaken rock. What could she do for us here?"

"But we're just sitting here out in the open, it isn't _safe_!" Eirtaé hissed. "Probably running out of water, rations…! There might be thieves and pirates here, not to mention those Hutt gangs Panaka mentioned, and furthermore what are we supposed to do if—"

" _Eirtaé_ ," Sabé said maybe a little harsher than necessary, "None of this is going to be solved by losing your _head_." The two of them looked at each other with hard expressions. It wasn't a huge secret that the two of them didn't exactly get along. Eirtaé was very prim and proper, by-the-book and easily bothered by anything and everything. She disliked Sabé's personality and convictions, and disliked that Sabé was more trained than the rest of them. Add to it the fact that she seemed to have personal resentments from losing the election to Padmé and she was difficult to like, for Sabé anyway.

"Naboo _needs_ us!" Eirtaé insisted, her eyes flashing and chest heaving. She was a picture of emotions gone wild, and for whatever reason, it enraged Sabé. Perhaps because she felt similarly.

"Well what do you propose?" Sabé asked sharply. "Shall we repair the ship with your _feelings_?" It was a thoughtless and unkind thing to say, and the second she said it, she was regretful. Her shoulders slumped a bit. "I'm sorry. That was out of line."

Eirtaé was clearly hurt and she merely turned away where she sat on the bed. Sabé mentally flayed herself for lashing out. She was just as guilty about losing her head as Eirtaé was.

Rabé, ever the peace maker, was gentle. "We all have loved ones at home, none of us want to be stranded like we are," she said, speaking to them both at once. "We're _all_ frustrated and grieving and afraid. Padmé won't let us down. We just have to have faith."

There was a lengthy, heavy pause. Sabé didn't see what good faith would do. What they needed was parts to make a stranded ship fly. "I just hope we won't be here long," Eirtaé said softly. She sounded near tears.

A few moments passed where Rabé went to sit near Eirtaé and touch her shoulder. Sabé paced slowly, turning her thoughts to the bigger picture even though personal frustrations with herself remained. "Something is very wrong with this entire situation," she finally said. "Do either of you think it's a strange move for the Senate to send two Jedi to deal with the blockade?"

"Very," Rabé agreed. "They had to have sent them secretly, which means the Senate isn't voting in our favor or planning to intervene. But why the invasion? It's an act of war. All of this over trade routes?"

Very troubling indeed. Padmé had always had an anti-Federation stance and even gained many votes because of her vocal convictions. She wanted Naboo to be more independent and for the taxes paid to be lessened in order to have more surplus money return to Naboo's own economy and affairs. Sabé looked out the viewport again and saw nothing but sand stretching as far as her eyes could see. "Why are we even part of the Republic if they're going to allow things like this to happen to us?" she asked, an angry question directed at no one in particular.

"Don't talk like that, Sabé, people will think you're an anarchist," Eirtaé said grumpily.

Sabé said it just to get under Eirtaé's skin: "Maybe I am." Suddenly her wrist comm went off with a light beep. She answered, not sure whether to be hopeful or pessimistic. "Yes."

"Panaka here. Still working on a headcount but wanted to fill you three in on the situation. It's the hyperdrive. It wasn't just leaking, it's completely useless after we made the jump from Naboo. We'll need an entirely new one."

Sabé was looking at Eirtaé and Rabé whose disbelief and devastation mirrored her own. It was even worse than they'd thought. "Are you serious?" she asked in a gaunt whisper.

"Unfortunately yes." He replied. "I need to do a few more things then I'll come brief you all. Stand by." Then the communication ended.

Rabé sat slowly, her face a mask of dread. "We could be here a very long time."

Eirtaé clasped her hand into a fist and held it in the center of her chest in prayer, letting her head drop as her eyes closed. Sabé looked out the viewport again, into the endless desolate landscape. Never had she felt so trapped and lost at the same time. What had they gotten into? They shouldn't have fled Naboo at all. For all she knew, they might die here in this strange, forbidding land.

* * *

Another hour or so ticked by torturously. Sabé had tried her best not to let herself think in ways that would cause her more pain and unease, but it was impossible. Worries about Zana were at the forefront of her mind. She had to excuse herself to cry privately in the fresher at one point because the feelings became too much. When she reappeared, Rabé silently fixed her makeup without saying anything about it. That, Sabé had appreciated. They became aware of the sandstorm when the solid hull of the starcraft began to creak, and their first instincts were to fear what they had no experience with. Naboo had a rainy season, but they'd never seen anything like this before. The outside world became a blur of beige, and they couldn't see even a meter through the churning, wind lashed sand. They worried about Padmé and if she and Qui-Gon had found shelter or not.

Panaka appeared at the doorway shortly thereafter, telling them to all come to the throne room quickly. A message had come in from home. With racing hearts and jangled nerves, the three of them followed the captain to the throne room where Obi-Wan sat and waited for them. Sabé could feel his gaze on her as she took the throne and glanced his way, still very wary of this complete stranger. A Jedi yes, but someone's creed, title, or job meant little to her. Rabé and Eirtaé took their places beside her, and Panaka sat too, then spoke into his wrist, voice-activating the holo message.

"Play transmission," he commanded, and then in front of them from a sleekly hidden projector embedded in the floor, a low-res blue image sprung to life. It was Sio Bibble, and his expression was alarming.

A dire message unfolded. " _Queen Amidala, I've only just managed to get this message to you… the Trade Federation has cut off all food supplies until you return… they're shooting people in the streets… the death toll is catastrophic… we_ must _bow to their wishes, Your Highness... you_ must _contact me..."_ And without anything else, the transmission blinked out, leaving the throne room in a stunned silence.

Obi-Wan looked between both the Queen and Panaka. "It's a trick," he said firmly, and Sabé realized she didn't think she'd heard him speak before just then. He had a gentle accent she hadn't expected. "Send no reply. Send no transmission of any kind. Don't tell anyone else aboard about it either. The Federation wants to use your emotions against you."

"They want to establish a trace, no doubt," Panaka agreed heavily.

"And if it _is_ true?" Sabé asked, having more difficulty putting on the queen's tone than usual.

Obi-Wan considered, his expression grim.

"Your master better be quick about this, that's all I can say," Panaka said darkly to Obi-Wan, and stood, going to the center of the room. "Your Highness, Jedi Kenobi—while we're here, I'm afraid I have some more bad news. There's twenty-eight of us onboard, well, twenty five without Qui-Gon and the ones that went with him. This vessel isn't intended for that many passengers as you know. The food and water aboard is reflective of that design. As far as water, the reservoir is very low—it wasn't replenished recently for gods knows what reason." He looked vaguely ill. "By my calculations we'll be out of it completely tomorrow afternoon, and out of food by tomorrow night."

Sabé's despair went from ten to a hundred. It was as if the very galaxy was against them. Obi-Wan, however, took the information in stride as if he were being told of the weather forecast. "Hmm. That _does_ present a problem." He thought a couple beats. "I read that Tatooine is a moisture farming planet. Perhaps if we can locate a vaporator unit nearby we can replenish the supply." Sabé looked at him with a sudden, small surge of hope. "Does this ship have a drone?"

"Yes it does," Panaka confirmed.

"All right. I'll use it to see if I can locate a vaporator not too far from us. After this blasted storm of course." He paused. "But I must confess, I don't know how to operate a vaporator at all. Would anyone onboard know how to use one and extract the water from inside?"

Panaka shook his head. "Doubtful." He seemed newly defeated. "Most security personnel are city folk."

Sabé cleared her throat nervously, not sure if this would throw a wrench into her act as queen or not. But as a farmer's daughter who had either been in school, asleep, or working the family farm her entire life until age twelve… "I know how." This confession earned her two surprised looks. She couldn't help but inject a bit of sarcasm into the moment at their astonished expressions. "Surely you two think I have skills other than wearing gowns and sitting still all day."

"Your Highness, if you think I'm letting you leave this ship—" Panaka began.

Sabé stood to her full height, not sure if this was Panaka trying to pretend she couldn't go or actually insisting. But she would use Obi-Wan's belief that she was a queen to her advantage. "Captain, no one _lets_ me do anything. I will do as I wish and I will do what is required. We need water. I know how to extract it." She stared him down defiantly, not for the first time in his life. "It's settled."

Panaka was the picture of reluctant. "First Padmé and now you," he muttered, then let it go sullenly. "Fine. What about the food problem?"

"We'll need something we can trade with," Obi-Wan said, looking to the captain then Sabé for input.

Sabé thought of the jewelry, oils, lotions, and precious metal accents dotting the queen's many gowns onboard. "That won't be a problem," she said.

Obi-Wan nodded and didn't question her further.

Panaka nodded as well. "All right. After the storm ends, we'll use the drone to find a vaporator. Hopefully an unattended one. Then gods willing, tomorrow morning, we can send you two and the reservoir to go get it. I'll check the onboard speeder and make sure it's still attached—you can tow the reservoir with it. Otherwise, this whole plan is shot." He rubbed his chin, thinking. "And while you two accomplish that, I'll send a couple officers to get food from the settlement."

"Make sure they don't wear anything that will cast them into suspicion or identify them as Nubian," Obi-Wan advised.

"Of course not."

Obi-Wan nodded again and bowed out. "If there's nothing else, please excuse me."

Sabé and Panaka watched him go, then Panaka shook his head in exasperation. "What a mess." He glanced darkly around at nothing specific. "These Jedi better get us off this damn rock. Trusting them feels like a mistake."

"Mistake or not, what else can we do?" Sabé asked. It was a cautious alliance made by necessity, nothing else.

Panaka fixed her with a raised brow, then folded his arms, choosing not to answer her question. "You seem quite happy to order me around in front of the Jedi, _Milady_." He used the formal address of milady sarcastically, which only mildly amused Sabé.

"Captain Panaka," she said serenely and quietly, "The switch was _your_ idea. I'm only doing my part to make things believable." She put a hand on his shoulder then brushed past him, guiltily enjoying . Rabé and Eirtaé followed behind. "Try and get some rest. This storm sounds like it's not ending anytime soon."

"Crack of dawn, be ready to go," he called behind them.

* * *

**The Next Morning**

Obi-Wan stood off a bit from the gleaming ship with folded arms, watching the two suns of Tatooine rising—he hadn't noticed there were two yesterday in his brief time outside. _No wonder it's so blasted hot and dry here._ He'd located a moisture vaporator not far from them using the ship's drone late last night then woken early and meditated to try to pacify his urge to move, to do, to accomplish. Obi-Wan was admittedly feeling perturbed and foul to be excluded from going to the settlement with Qui-Gon. It seemed like Qui-Gon was always doing this kind of thing to him to test him and to force patience upon him: the menial, the monotonous. _Every task is an important one, Obi-Wan. Patience, my young padawan._ Words he had heard over and over and over again.

Another thing was bothering him: the matter of Qui-Gon's newest fascination: a young boy named Anakin he'd met in the city settlement yesterday. It had gone so well apparently that they'd escaped the storm at this boy and his mother's home and spent the night there as well. Obi-Wan sighed a bit to himself. His master was very different from himself. But in the differences there laid lessons. Or that's what Master Yoda said anyway.

With a deep measured breath and a call upon the Force for guidance, Obi-Wan refocused himself on the here and now. Before sunrise, Captain Panaka had successfully gotten the ship's speeder out from its hidden compartment under the ship and with the help of a few pilots and officers, they'd emptied the remaining water from the reservoir into whatever containers they could scavenge from the ship. The now-empty reservoir was attached to the speederbike on a towing hover device, and he now waited by it for the Nubian monarch. If nothing else, this quest for water would be a good way to fill some time while Qui-Gon kept hunting for a solution to the defunct hyperdrive.

Obi-Wan began wondering if the queen would appear wearing the same ornate black gown and headdress as yesterday. It wasn't the most suitable outfit for this wretched inferno of a planet or for doing any kind of physical labor. He felt mildly amused at the thought of her working on a vaporator in her royal getup either way. He had met so many different types of sentient beings over his years training, and these Naboo people were no different. While he didn't know too much of them, their monarch and her wardrobe choices were interesting to say the least. That and the fact that apparently she knew how to use a vaporator were intriguing. The mask-like makeup and clearly false voice she used led him to wonder about the reasons for why, but he didn't dwell on it too long.

The sounds of footsteps coming down the ship ramp nearby caused Obi-Wan to turn mildly to see who it was. Down the ramp came a very different sight than he'd anticipated. Panaka and… someone else. A young woman with a bare face and brown hair dressed in a plain combination of sandy toned leggings, boots, and a poncho style tunic that was belted at the waist by a dark sash. Long sleeves of bone-white fabric covered her arms, and he had a moment of wondering who this was, until of course he realized this was Amidala. Her hair was braided on both sides of her head starting at the crown then descending to the nape of her neck where the braids had been tied together and went down to the middle of her back.

She wore no royal makeup and he could now see defining features of her face and the healthy olive tone of her skin. She was strikingly pretty—from a simply objective point of view of course—and she looked like a completely different person. Obi-Wan was so surprised that he wasn't sure what to say for a moment as she and the captain came to meet him. "Good morning," he settled on, not bothering to hide his reaction. "I hardly recognized you." She studied him back, but gave away little reaction to his statement except for a nearly imperceptible upturn of her lips. Beside her, Panaka looked absolutely foul as Obi-Wan was learning might be standard. Obi-Wan cleared his throat and pointed eastward. "There's an outpost vaporator just a few kilometers away, luckily enough."

Amidala arched an eyebrow. "Let's hope our luck continues and there's _water_ inside of it, shall we?" Her natural voice was pleasant and accented, and the subtle cynicism was enjoyable for the likes of Obi-Wan.

"Contact me if anything goes wrong," Panaka said, clearly not at peace with the plan. "I'd rather send someone with you but they'd just slow you down with that two seater." He was talking about the speeder, which could only fit two riders.

"We'll be fine Captain," the queen said, giving him a look that seemed to very pointedly tell him to go away. Reluctant and resigned, Panaka clasped his hands behind himself and made his exit. Businesslike, the queen nodded at the speeder. "Shall we?"

They climbed on with Obi-Wan navigating and Amidala holding onto him just barely with one arm. She was modest, he supposed. Underneath the brightening world and empty blue sky, they made quick time even though Obi-Wan didn't push the bike to go too fast for caution of damaging the reservoir. They crossed several kilometers to get to the vaporator where sandy flats gave away to very rocky, uneven terrain. The weathered vaporator loomed in a small open-ended canyon, it's humidity sensors creaking against the breeze in the otherwise quiet landscape.

After they arrived and Obi-Wan cut the bike engine, they hauled the reservoir over to the water outlet side of the vaporator. Surprisingly, the queen was stronger than she looked and by no means delicate. The easy, commanding way she lifted and handled the reservoir on her end was not what Obi-Wan would have predicted. After they got it into place, Amidala squatted at the lower control panel, then stood to look at the pressure valves and readouts. From what Obi-Wan understood of vaporators, their pressure systems were very sensitive and to extract water from them was a very careful procedure. If an ignorant fool attempted to do it wrong, the vaporator could freeze up internally or even explode.

"So what do you think?" Obi-Wan asked after a moment of watching her scrutinize the device. "Can you operate it?"

"It's not exactly like the moisturizers on Naboo but…" she nodded. "Yes, I think so. If you can unscramble the lock." She tapped a device that was similar to a restraining bolt and locked onto the levels, threaded through to prevent tampering. "I'm not very good at code breaking, unfortunately." Obi-Wan had to smirk at her train of thought as he drew his lightsaber, held it in just the right place, ignited, and the lock fell off like a feather. As he switched his weapon off, the queen stared at where the lock had just been, and her expression was comical to him. "Or that," she said, then smiled in spite of herself and set to work hoisting a level and pulling down on another one. She crouched and twisted a dial, then another one, then looked up at the columns towering over their heads. The vaporator began to make pressurized sounds deep inside the large center column. "Unscrew the valve," she said, and Obi-Wan went over to the other side of the vaporator and did as she said. "Slowly," she added. He complied, then a thick and clear stream of water sprang forth, gushing into the waiting reservoir. The queen gave a triumphant "Ha!" as she grinned widely.

Obi-Wan also grinned a little. This was good news. While the queen monitored the device and watched pressure levels, Obi-Wan came back around and crossed his arms and leaned against one of the thick painted-white metal columns, watching her with interest. "And how exactly is it that a Queen of a planet possesses the knowledge to operate such a device?" he asked.

This earned him a glance that was decidedly guarded, and an answer just as elusive. "I assumed you read my file," she said, her tone hard to gauge.

Obi-Wan scratched his ear. "I must confess… I only skimmed."

"I see," she said, then gave him a smile that could be called playfully challenging. "Well, why is that queen cannot be both ornamental _and_ handy?"

She was being purposefully ambiguous, which only served to make him wonder more. But for now, he relented. "A very fair point, Milady." He indicated the interface panel. "Can you show me how to work it?"

Her eyebrows rose. "In a _day_?" she asked, as if that was an absurd task. She then decided to acquiesce, but she seemed to be laughing at her own inside joke. "I hope you're a quick study."

For the next few moments she showed him the different functions on the panels and what each lever did and told him about pressure ratios to ensure safe water flow. It was rather complicated. So engrossed in the lesson, Obi-Wan's focus drifted, and he wasn't aware of the approaching danger until the very last moment, when a dark surge in the Force made him snap to attention and shout " _get down_!" as his lightsaber flew into his waiting hands. Not a moment too soon—several blaster shots screamed through the air, hitting sand, the vaporator, and nearly them. They scrambled around to the other side of the vaporator where enemy fire wasn't coming from. A high pitched animalistic roaring laugh—no, several—echoed all around.

And then, blaster fire… from right beside him. Obi-Wan looked in surprise at the queen, who had produced a blaster from an unknown place and was returning fire expertly from her crouch. Her face was a mask of grit and fierce determination as she ducked the top half of herself out into the open to trade fire—one of the screeching enemies shooting at them peeked out too far and the queen made an impressive headshot—and the attacker fell from quite a height onto the sand across the canyon floor, dead.

"Where were you hiding that?!" Obi-Wan exclaimed as they continued to draw laserfire.

The queen paused briefly behind the safety of column to give him a coy smirk, the blaster held to herself like second nature. Laserfire was like sideways rain all around them. "Jedi Kenobi, a lady must keep her secrets."

Obi-Wan made a face, a mixture of impressed and amused and surprised at her sense of humor given the circumstances. "Apparently." He squinted out across the canyon from in between the columns they'd taken cover behind. From their current position, they wouldn't be able to gain the upper hand. Obi-Wan put together a quick plan in his mind. "Can you cover me?"

Amidala looked at him like he'd grown horns. "Is the sky blue?" she asked as if offended, then gestured readily. "On your cue."

Obi-Wan was given brief pause. If nothing else, he found himself liking this strange queen. With a deep breath, he tensed himself, drawing on the Force for speed and a pinpoint on the exact location of their enemy. " _Now,_ " he said, and Amidala leaned back out into view of the enemy and gave a barrage of cover fire for him as he ran out from the opposite side of the vaporator, gaining speed then vaulting up the rock face and slashing the attacker in half. The Force sang, and Obi-Wan turned quickly. Across the way, he saw movement—two others had just made it up the opposite ridge, a perfect vantage point to fire on Amidala. It was too far for him to jump, even with the Force.

" _Move, move_!" Obi-Wan shouted to her even as he ducked—one of them was firing at him. Even as he ducked, there was a massive explosion and the earth quaked, and he almost lost his footing. Obi-Wan stood up and parried two laserbolts then two more, sending the shots meant for him back to each remaining enemy—killing them both. Quiet returned, but below, the speederbike was demolished, having taken a stray laserbolt in the wrong place. The remains were choking out thick black smoke, the metal skeleton on fire.

Obi-Wan was already scrambling down the rocky crag to where the queen laid. She was not moving.

* * *


	3. Interlude

Obi-Wan clambered down the embankment with a hammering heart, sending little rocks skittering down as he rushed to the fallen queen. The blast had knocked her onto her back and he couldn't immediately see with his eyes or feel through the Force if she'd been hurt… or worse. All he could feel was his sense of instinctive panic muddled with warped Force energy that tended to follow scenes of chaos. If the monarch died under his watch, he couldn't even begin to imagine the ramifications or the guilt he would have—feelings he judged immediately as selfish within the span of a microsecond. He cursed himself for leaving her side and for not being more aware of their surroundings.

"Queen Amidala! Queen Amidala!" he called as he got close, dropping down beside her and grabbing onto her arms lightly, scanning for injuries. Even as he did that, he saw and felt that she was stirring and didn't appear to have any life threatening wounds—palpable relief flooded him, easing his anxiety but only slightly. He let go, mildly out of breath from the rush of adrenaline he'd experienced. "Are you all right Milady?"

She groaned and squinted against the sun in her eyes, sitting up stiffly and looking down at her right upper arm. Something had cut her there relatively deeply just above the elbow crease, probably a piece of flying debris. Blood blossomed out onto the white sleeve that was now slashed open against the wound. "I'm fine, I'm fine," she said, sounding more irritated and perhaps embarrassed than anything else. "This is just _great,_ " she muttered, sitting up fully and wincing while touching the back of her head and avoiding his eyes. Obi-Wan quickly assessed her with both his gaze and by focusing in with his senses. She'd hit the ground hard but her only visible wounds were the smallest bloodred scrape on her cheek and the painful looking cut on her arm.

"Blazes' sake," she muttered, trying to pull her poncho away from the blood that was seeping out onto her white sleeve, then giving up and pressing the fabric straight on instead. She simultaneously tore a long strip from the bottom of it off and shoved her arm at Obi-Wan. "Help me wrap this."

As he complied, he noticed that Queen Amidala was extremely, unexpectedly toned—she had strong, defined shoulders and very well developed triceps and biceps—the definition of which told him she was no stranger to a gymnasium or very intense training. How odd that Naboo had this apparent warrior queen yet was a staunchly pacifist nation. Something was beginning to strike him as odd, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He glanced up at her face, and saw her watching him. She looked away.

"Is that all right?" he asked, tying up the strip as neatly as possible. It was enough to stop the bleeding, and it would have to do for now.

She shifted the poncho around and then took it off, turned it inside out, and thanks to thick fabric, no blood showed through. She put it back on inside out. "Good as new," she said, although Obi-Wan doubted it. That type of injury would make using her arm painful, and could heal wrong if not tended to correctly. She seemed to be thinking about something else entirely: "Swear you won't tell Panaka. He'll never let me hear the end of it."

He studied Amidala mildly, again feeling that sense that something was a bit off here. Why would she worry about her captain or any comments he would make? Nevertheless, he nodded once. "You have my word, Milady," Obi-Wan fixed his eyes on the little slash across her cheek. "You do have a visible cut on your face though."

"What? Where?" She began to touch her own face with her fingers then looking at them to try and locate it. Somehow she missed each time.

"Here." Without much thought he placed two fingers to the soft skin just underneath the cut. Their gazes met. And Obi-Wan felt an unexpected flare in the Force. A feeling of peace, intensity, strength, and a sense of reaching. In a brief trance, their gazes held. Her eyes were molten amber brown, and this close, he could see the little zigzags of darker, reddish brown in their depths. Those eyes searched his with something like surprise—curiosity—apprehension. Did she feel something too? Obi-Wan pulled his fingers away, disconcerted.

There was a short pause in which the queen cleared her throat and self-consciously touched fingers to the cut that she now knew the location of. "How bad is it?" she asked, pulling fingers back and looking at them to see how much blood came away. Not much, but it was still noticeable against her fair skin.

Obi-Wan stood and offered her his hand, wanting to get away from the strange moment that had just transpired between them. "If you walk by him fast enough, perhaps he won't take notice," he suggested, using humor to make the moment feel more comfortable.

She was looking up at him as if she was trying to figure him out. "Excellent plan," she replied neutrally and grabbed his wrist, hauling herself up and dusting herself off. Immediately back to business even though a couple of hooded glances came his way, she carefully skirted the speederbike ruins. They were a charred mess still burning in a couple of places. A stray blasterbolt must have hit the fuel chamber and caused the explosion. "Reservoir's all right," she said, observing that it had miraculously only been blown away a few yards from the speederbike without toppling over thanks to still being mounted on the towing hover attachment. She squinted back at him with a vexed expression. "How do we get this blasted thing back to the ship now though?"

Obi-Wan was squinting too. The suns were very bright here, especially having risen higher now. "A very present problem indeed."

He watched her go over to the still-gushing water outlet at the vaporator and then quickly cut the water flow off using a series of quick dial and lever operations. "Your lesson will have to wait for another day," she muttered, throwing around mistrustful glances as if she expected to see more assailants appear at any moment.

Obi-Wan gestured to her to come with him. "Let's see if our friends left anything useful."

She followed, on her guard. "You and I have a different definition of friends."

They climbed up a craggy incline to the top of the canyon. There they saw more rocky and boulder-covered terrain as far as the eye could see, as well as two of the slain bodies of whatever creatures had attacked them.

The queen crouched down beside one and looked at it closely, a hard frown on her face. They were humanoid in build but every inch of them was concealed by clothing, gloves, headwraps, and strange metal goggles and breathing tubes over their eyes and mouths—giving them an eerie appearance. Metal spikes came out atop their heads like thorns. "What _are_ these creatures?" she asked, seeming equal parts transfixed and wary. "Are they human?"

A few feet off, Obi-Wan contemplated the energy of the Force. It was uncertain and foreboding. Whispers of something malicing coming curled around his mind like fog. He glanced around, seeing nothing, but feeling something _else_ nearby too… "I don't know, but my feelings tell me we should leave, and quickly." Obi-Wan focused harder. Something large and gentle was close, despite of the other feelings. He wandered a few steps forward and peered around a larger boulder formation, his eyebrows raising. "We _do_ seem to have acquired a transportation method, though."

It was a very large furry land animal that perhaps five people could have ridden at once. It had two curling horns on either side of its massive head, and made a soft sound through a wide, flat mouth when it saw Obi-Wan. It was outfitted with a saddle and harness lead. Domesticated then.

Amidala came to stand beside him and when she saw the large land animal, she gave a surprised, "Oh!"

Going closer slowly, Obi-Wan tested the proverbial waters by reaching out toward the animal, using the Force to send calming waves of peaceful intention out. "Hello there, my very large friend," he said, and laid a hand against the animal's face, communicating without words, just with senses and feelings.

"Is he friendly?" Amidala asked, sounding doubtful.

As if to answer the question, the beast gave a loud huff through its nose and nibbled at Obi-Wan's robe gently. " _Too_ friendly," Obi-Wan said with a helpless little smile, then took its harness lead in his hand and craned his neck around, looking for a way to get down to the canyon floor.

* * *

Two small figures led a slow, lumbering bantha and the water reservoir that he towed behind him across the sea of sand. It was late morning now, and the sand made it blindingly bright. The heat was unlike anything Sabé had ever experienced, not to mention the dryness. Her skin felt thirsty and tight. Her whole body was uncomfortabe.

They had successfully attached the reservoir to the animal using the hovering tow attachment, but it would probably take the better part of an hour to get back to the ship without the speed of the destroyed bike. Her arm hurt pretty badly, and Sabé knew she just had to accept it for now and get through the discomfort until later. If nothing else, she felt more like herself being off that blasted ship and doing something meaningful. Even if it _was_ a thousand kriffing degrees on this planet.

"I'm curious about something," Obi-Wan said presently, drawing her out of her thoughts. "Do all the people of Naboo know how to wield a weapon as well as you do?"

Sabé felt a nervous twitch in her stomach as she regarded him across the face of the animal—they were on either side, with the Jedi holding the lead. Some of his questions felt decidedly probing, like he was onto her or testing her. "No," she answered carefully. "Very few, in fact." She paused. "My planet is a pacifist world. But… in my mind, peace doesn't mean sell your swords. Only lay them down until they're needed." Obi-Wan listened and nodded thoughtfully, seeming to accept the answer which was true enough. It was actually how she felt, and was believable too. Sabé thought a couple beats more then looked at him again. "I'm curious about something too, Jedi Kenobi."

His reply surprised her. "Call me Obi-Wan—Jedi Kenobi sounds like an old man."

An invitation to a more personal and less formal dynamic. For whatever reason, it made Sabé a degree more apprehensive. "Obi-Wan," she said, telling herself she was overthinking it. She thought of his eyes looking into hers when he'd touched her face with two gentle fingers. She stole another sidelong glance at him. He was handsome, and of course she'd noticed it immediately just as she would notice anyone else's physical appearance when seeing them the first time. But there was something about him beyond his face that made her linger and feel intrigued. Not knowing _what_ that draw was left her frustrated and annoyed. Sabé realized she hadn't asked him her question when he looked at her expectantly with the tiniest amused smile, as if he found her silence to be entertaining. "How _exactly_ did you and your master come to be associated with the Gungan?" she asked, pretending nothing was amiss.

Obi-Wan almost looked disappointed, like he had anticipated a better question and he sighed in such a way that betrayed a certain frustration. " _Ah_. Jar-Jar. Qui-Gon has a penchant for… _collecting_." A delicately chosen word that revealed Obi-Wan's feelings on the matter: he didn't like it. "We came across him when we fled the initial invasion wave. He offered help and took us to an underwater Gungan city t—"

" _You went to a Gungan city_?!" Her jaw essentially dropped and eyes were wide. At his questioning eyebrow raise, she grasped for a way to say it succinctly: "…Humans don't go there."

Obi-Wan nodded knowingly. "I gathered there is no love lost between the Naboo and the Gungans."

"You gathered correctly," Sabé said, trying to wrap her mind around this amazing, unheard of information, her mind jumping around from possibility to possibility. "Wait. How did you get from that city to Theed?"

Another shocking bombshell came, delivered in that pleasantly mild, accented tone. "We went through the planet core."

Her eyes bulged again in shock. "You went through the planet _core_?!" Again, Obi-Wan looked at her in slight amusement, and it was as if he didn't understand. The monsters down there, not to mention the dangers of the cave and pressure systems were dark, foreboding legend on Naboo. " _No one_ does that," she said, then corrected herself. "Well, no one does that then lives to tell about it." Sabé narrowed her eyes at him. "Who was navigating?"

"Me."

Sabé took this information in stride for a few seconds, trying to comprehend it, trying to imagine. "You must be an incredible pilot then," she said, and it was hard to hide the admiring lean in her tone.

This earned her quite the self-humored smirk and an almost playful look. "Well, Your Highness… you said it, not me."

His sense of humor was difficult to dislike, catching her off guard in an enjoyable way. "And humble too," Sabé replied, chuckling despite herself. She was beginning to feel like they would be friends in another reality. Or maybe even this one. His personality, what little of it she'd seen so far, was the type she enjoyed. Focused, serious, resourceful, but also with a cynical and humorous side.

A moment of quiet passed, then he ventured a new turn in conversation. "You never _did_ say how you came to know how to operate a vaporator…" he looked across the animal's profile at her and Sabé kept her face neutral despite the immediate worry at his curious tone. Why was he so stuck on that? He said he hadn't read Amidala's file, but was that true? Was he testing her? Did he suspect something? Sabé had to quickly try to decide how the real queen would know how to use a vaporator. She thought she'd read that some Jedi could read minds, but maybe that was just gossip. Either way, she forged ahead with the best lie she could think of.

"A… school trip to a farm," she said calmly despite her pulse picking up. "A crop farmer showed us how they worked."

Obi-Wan was subtly dubious, using her previous comment from earlier against her: "In a day?"

Sabé's mouth felt dry but she gave a sly smile and pretended to be confident, using the same comment he was springboarding off of earlier to bring it full circle. "I'm a quick study." She tried to switch subjects casually, hoping she didn't overcompensate with the offhand tone she used. "But enough about that, I have more questions about the Gungan city."

If he was suspicious, she couldn't tell. "Anything you wish to know, Milady."

Sabé didn't have to think too hard about what to ask since she was genuinely curious. "How did they react to seeing humans there?" From what she knew, no one had been to a Gungan city in hundreds of years.

He thought about it for a second. "Well, they seemed more upset about seeing Jar-Jar there than anything else," Obi-Wan said with a darkly humorous attitude. "He was banished, you see."

Sabé frowned, looking at the Jedi closely. Was he joking? This kept getting more interesting. "Banished? Is he a criminal?"

"Something about being clumsy," Obi-Wan said, and he looked a little confused by his own statement.

"…He was banished because he was clumsy?" Sabé repeated, mulling it over. She'd met a Gungan once as a little girl and remembered being afraid, hiding behind her papa as she stared at the creature she'd only seen in storybooks prior. "They certainly do things differently," she said, not sure what else to say about it. "Do you think they've been affected by the invasion too?"

Obi-Wan nodded, grim. "More than likely. We saw some underwater transports when we were aboard the Federation flagship." Her heart and mood fell. For the span of a couple hours, Sabé had mercifully forgotten the bigger picture, or at least turned her attention elsewhere. Now she was thinking about it all again and wondering torturously if they would even make it back to her homeworld. And if they did, what state would they find it in? In her mind she could see Theed burning and crumbled, the magnificent gilded teal rooftops and sandstone walls ruined and forlorn. She could imagine people dead and starving in the streets, families torn apart. She could picture Zana crying and needing protection but left all alone, scared and defenseless. "You cannot do anything about any of it right now, Your Highness," came a gentle admonishment from Obi-Wan, who must have seen her expression. "Don't blame yourself."

She knew he was right, but none of that really did anything to ease the internal conflict or pain or fear. "That's… difficult." She studied the distance. More bleak sand that made her squint as her heart beat painfully in her chest. "There are millions of people on Naboo and Gungans too. All suffering." She wondered if this was somehow her fault. Padmé hadn't given an executive order to come flee Naboo, Sabé had merely thought it's what the queen wanted… and Padmé had left so suddenly that they hadn't had a chance to talk about it further. Falling into a more negative mental space, Sabé felt like her entire demeanor darkened. "Perhaps we shouldn't have left." Being on her planet seemed much more superior to this cursed, bitter fate. Trapped. Lost. Caged. Wounded and bleeding.

Obi-Wan was thoughtful and gentle. "Dwelling in the possibilities is a certain path to anguish, Milady."

She glanced over at him again, drawn out of her spiraling thoughts. He was studying her, and he was empathetic. "You're right," she acknowledged, but it was weary and reluctant. Realizing that she was becoming too unguarded, too comfortable, too in touch with feelings that would only harm her, Sabé drew a deep breath and pulled the veil of performance around herself while pushing personal thoughts away. She needed to be the queen, not herself. "Thank you, Obi-Wan. You are wise."

He injected wry humor again, thankfully. "Tell Qui-Gon that, will you?"

Hmm. She studied him briefly. This young Jedi who she didn't know, but felt some kindred spirit to in ways. "I take it there's some tension between you two." She said it for a couple of reasons: to find out more about them, and because she was personally curious about who they both were.

"We… do not always see eye to eye," he answered carefully. She'd already observed that much to be sure.

"And how often does he leave you behind to babysit?" she asked in purposeful, put-on lightheartedness, watching him carefully for his reaction.

Another indirect, joking answer. "I think he enjoys making me suffer." Her eyebrows raised as a smile grew on her face. Obi-Wan visibly realized that could come off as an insult to her. It actually amused her of all things as he attempted to smooth over verbally. "Please don't misunderstand, Queen Amidala. I am not complaining about your company." She didn't say anything, just shamelessly enjoyed his slight squirming. "It's… not every day that one is graced with the companionship of a Queen."

"You flatter me, sir," she said, distinctly jokingly. For another moment as they walked, she considered what to ask that wouldn't be too invasive that would tell her more about him. She finally settled on something factual. "Jedi apprentices become masters around your age, don't they? When will you face the trials?" He looked to be in his mid-twenties, which she thought she remembered being the approximate time a Jedi learner became a master. But, she was no expert.

Obi-Wan's expression was difficult to read. Perhaps conflicted. "That remains to be seen. I became a padawan later than most, perhaps I'll become a master later than most too." He threw her an expression that seemed worn down, but in a good-natured way. "I'm told often that I'm still too impatient, too reckless."

Sabé felt another twinge of connection and understanding. She had heard the same many times too. She attempted a humorous response. "I prefer to view impatience as ambition and accelerated time management, myself."

A pleasantly occupied, challenging glance came her way. "And recklessness?"

She thought a moment before confidently landing on: "Fearless decision making."

From his smile, Obi-Wan liked that. He had dimples that cut into his cheeks, and it was hard not to notice how much they enhanced his already handsome appearance. "I see now why you're in politics, Milady," he said. If only he knew how much she detested the game of politics.

She managed an acknowledging little smile then fell silent for a moment, idly thinking about how hot she was and feeling the dull aching throb of the cut on her arm. Reality currently didn't feel real. To be so far from home, stranded on this alien planet and to not know how or when they would escape it was difficult to shoulder. The queen's absence and lack of communication was stressful. The longing to be home with her sister was so strong that it felt like her heart could pull right out of her chest. But despite all of it, she wasn't hopeless yet. _Stay in the moment,_ she told herself. They had made it this far. Maybe when they got back to the ship there would be word from Qui-Gon about a new hyperdrive. She needed to stop thinking about it though, and once again forcibly moved her thoughts elsewhere. She peered around, trying to find something positive about this Tatooine planet, but all she could come up with was that she found it abysmal. Her skin was beginning to feel burnt too. In the distance, a massive skeleton laid out on the sand alone. There was little life here, and an incredible sense of danger. "Can you imagine living in a place like this?" she asked in a soft, contemplative voice. "Obviously people are born here but… would anyone willfully choose this?"

Obi-Wan seemed to share her sentiments. "Only someone desperate to hide or perhaps endeared to desolation as far as the eye can see, I'm sure."

At that moment, the animal they led gave a tremendous sneeze—a sound that was like a great yell and Sabé jumped even while she stifled a yelp, a hand across her chest in surprise. "Lands alive," she exclaimed, her heartrate having doubled. She then realized Obi-Wan was outright chuckling. Half serious but moreso joking, Sabé made a face. "Stop laughing at me! I command it immediately."

"As the queen says," Obi-Wan replied slyly, and it was clear he was still laughing inside. Sabé bowed her head into her hand, flustered but also hiding her laughter too.


	4. Qui-Gon's Gamble

When Sabé and Obi-Wan arrived back at the ship with the reservoir midmorning, Sabé left the Jedi to handle the re-installation and she went inside quickly to avoid being seen by Panaka. She missed seeing the brief look from Obi-Wan that followed her on the way in—something akin to contemplation.

She went straight to the royal chambers where, to her annoyance, the hyper-observant Eirtaé immediately noticed her cheek scrape and began asking questions. Sabé downplayed it and didn't tell either handmaiden what had happened or reveal her more problematic arm wound, choosing to handle first aid in the fresher by herself. Telling Rabé and Eirtaé about how dangerous this planet was seemed like something that would only make anxieties worse. She used a skin-colored makeup to hide the cut on her cheek as well as she could and then hid the bloody poncho for the time being. Afterward, she changed into a charcoal body suit with a crushed velvet green tunic with long bell sleeves—the other two handmaidens changed into dark maroon hooded cloaks to offset her. Rabé kindly redid Sabé's hair, putting it into an elegant, functional series of knotted gatherings sitting at the base of her scalp. They did not use the royal makeup.

Earlier that morning Panaka had expressed some disagreement with the choice to go out onto Tatooine without the royal makeup, but Sabé's point of view had been that whatever queenly outfit and getup would only get in the way and make her stand out to anyone who happened to see them—possibly even tipping off someone with the very distinct Nubian makeup. Panaka had seen her point begrudgingly and decided to brief certain security personnel onboard to the decoy situation since a few of them would recognize Sabé from her years in palace security. It was beginning to feel like they might be stuck here a long time… priority had to be survival, not pretense. However, they did agree not to inform Obi-Wan about the queen-handmaiden switch. Panaka said the Jedi knights were outsiders, and the less they knew the better. Sabé agreed… mostly. After spending some time with Obi-Wan, she wasn't so sure he was so bad—it was more a gut instinct than anything else. But she also knew better than to trust implicitly.

In the later afternoon hours, three officers returned to the ship from the settlement with various food items they'd traded for in town—enough supplies for three days or so, which did alleviate some worry. But there were other pressing problems closing in on them all the same: the ship's cooling system wouldn't work for too much longer off of reserve, the waste reservoir would overflow at some point, and the water reservoir would only last for more than a few days, if conserved well—namely with no showers allowed.

No word came from Qui-Gon or Padmé. No more transmissions from Naboo either. The lack of communication made for high tensions and worries. For awhile the handmaidens prepared, sorted, and put away the food that had come in from town to occupy their time doing something useful. All of it was strange items and grains they'd never heard of for the most part, and an assortment of bizarre looking dead creatures no one had any idea quite how to cook or even prepare for cooking.

Sabé was pulled away at an unexpected moment, with Obi-Wan entering the hold where she and Rabé, Eirtaé, and a couple officers were at work. Right away she knew something was wrong, even before he came directly to her and nodded toward the throne room with a low, "we need to speak."

She went with him with heightened suspicion and nervousness, noting a sense of grimness to the Padawan's energy. Had Qui-Gon contacted him? For a moment, she thought they were going to speak alone, which peaked her dread-filled curiosity even further. But in the throne room, Panaka waited while pacing the floor in his signature uptight fashion. The sight of him made Sabé's apprehension take a nose dive into paranoia. Panaka made a beeline for them. "All right, what is it we need to discuss? Have you heard from your master?"

They stood casually in the center of the room, yesterday's formality a distant memory. Obi-Wan looked uncomfortable. "Yes, I have."

When he said nothing else, Sabé felt that sense of dread scream against the silence of the ship. She prompted him impatiently. "And?"

Obi-Wan seemed extremely hesitant to disclose what he knew. "Qui-Gon has met a ten-year-old slave boy who is gifted in the Force," he began, instantly mystifying Panaka and Sabé both. What did that have to do with anything? "He plans to enter this boy into a podrace."

The Nubians both looked at him in total confusion.

"What, in his spare time?" Sabé asked.

"And what the blazes is a podrace?" Panaka demanded rudely. "Furthermore, what does this have to do with anything?"

"Podracing is some sort of twin engine high speed race I believe," Obi-Wan answered factually, giving nothing away about his emotions. Sabé failed to see where this was going but was beginning to dislike it, either way. Then, it became clear: "Qui-Gon believes this boy can win a grand race happening tomorrow. He's going to place a bet so that he can secure a hyperdrive with his winnings."

The room was punched with blaring silence for a brief shocked second.

"Gambling?" Panaka asked in disbelief.

" _That's_ his brilliant plan?" Sabé added in a gut-punched near whisper, almost feeling as if this had to be a joke.

Obi-Wan then dropped the biggest bomb of all then: "Yes. He has wagered this ship as collateral."

Panaka and Sabé were rendered speechless until Sabé's confusion evaporated and a new emotion began to surge. Anger. "Your master has put this entire ship and its occupants at risk on a _bet_? On a _ten year old_ winning a race?" Her volume was rising. "Here on a planet full of gangsters with us stranded and unprotected like this…?" She stared, bereft of calm. "Is he _insane_?!"

Obi-Wan's expression was hard to read. "My master believes this is the best option, Milady," he answered evenly.

"He made this decision without our consent," Sabé argued, feeling violated and victimized, not to mention scared out of her wits that their fate was in the hands of some cavalier, gambling Jedi and a ten year old child who was no doubt being exploited in some bizarre way. "Tell him we don't condone this!"

Obi-Wan kept his voice calm, despite some very slight visible annoyance. "I understand it is not the most... expected course of action, but I am not in a position to question my master's decisions."

"Well _I_ am," Sabé snapped. "My ship is not his to wager!" Beside her, Panaka was quiet and dangerous, staring lasers at the Jedi.

"I agree, Milady," Obi-Wan said softly, and his even temper made her want to punch him. "I know you don't know Qui-Gon. As ill-advised as this plan may seem, I promise you, personally… we will get off this planet. We _can_ trust him."

A few hours ago she had thought of him differently. Now, regarding the Jedi with no attempt to hide her offended and furious state, Sabé scoffed. "This is _absurd_ , Obi-Wan!"

Obi-Wan inclined his head once maddeningly, respectfully showing he was listening to her while refusing to personally involve himself, apparently. "You are free to discuss your disapproval with my master when he returns."

A statement combined with such tranquility that she felt like her glare alone could pierce a wall. " _If_ he returns, you mean," she retorted. Who knew the seedy types he was rubbing shoulders with or what he was doing on this godsforsaken planet. He could get himself—and the real queen—killed!

"I thought Jedi were supposed to be wise," Panaka put in, his expression foul. "Your master is a damned _fool_ to put us on the line like this. We could be stuck here for good if he fails!"

There was a twitch in his calm demeanor and Obi-Wan's voice was slightly strained when he replied. "Your Highness, Captain Panaka, with all due respect, I didn't have to alert either of you to what's happening. I chose to, out of courtesy to you."

Eyebrows raising high at his gall to imply he was doing them a favor, Sabé couldn't stop herself from an ugly, unqueenly comment. "Yeah, you're a real hero aren't you." Panaka gave her a sidelong look and Sabé clamped her mouth shut, realizing she was too angry to interact correctly. She drew in a deep breath even as she shook. There wasn't anything she could do, was there? And the true queen was the one who was actually _with_ this madman Qui-Gon. Padmé was the only one who had hope of swaying him. With that realization and the knowledge that staying in this room and arguing would only make things worse, Sabé made to leave. "I have nothing else to say," she said in clipped tones. "Excuse me."

She all but stormed out and back into the royal quarters, fuming and then settling into an embarrassed uncertainty and an even more unexpected feeling of betrayal. How could Obi-Wan let this happen to them? Surely he had _some_ say in how his master conducted himself, they were a team weren't they? Sabé questioned herself deeply. Reacting the way she had was easy due to the pressure of the situation, the despair at how many walls they were up against, and the clawing, raging need to get home. Had it been too much? Had she lost her grip? And yet, she felt as though Padmé would have reacted the same way—with more self control and carefully aimed verbal daggers instead of Sabé's outright fiery opposition of course. But the heart of it would have been the same. Sabé found herself longingly looking out the viewing port at the city—the officers who'd visited today said it was called Mos Espa. _Queen Amidala, we need you. Or at least I do._ She couldn't understand how all of their fate hung in the balance of a child's racing skills in that distant settlement. Her thoughts of course turned to Zana, only a year older than this boy Qui-Gon had selected. She couldn't imagine the pressure someone that age would feel to save an entire ship full of people. What bizarre, twisted reality was this? _For gods sakes, I just want to be back home. We never should have left._

She let out a deep, tension filled breath, trying to will her rage into something more useful. They were only along for the ride at this point and that was the most infuriating, helpless feeling of all. Either way, behaving like a caged animal would get them nowhere except sunken like a ship in the sea.

* * *

A bit later, Panaka came in with Lieutenant Dakana, one of the officers who had made it aboard in the escape from Theed. Lez Dakana was a senior officer who Sabé had served with in the palace for awhile—he was a serious man in his mid thirties who was similar in his style and approach to Panaka. Since the Captain, Lieutenant Dakana and Sabé were the highest ranking officials on board, it only made sense that they would be the ones to strategize over their response to the newest information from Obi-Wan. They went back and forth with what they should do, should _not_ do, and could not do. Finally, they settled on trusting that Padmé would have contacted them somehow if she was in vast disagreement with the plan, and that they should just wait it out and see what happened—find a way to watch the race live on a local channel so they knew the outcome with enough time to prepare a defense or escape (abandon ship) if needed. They also agreed not to tell the occupants of the ship (besides the other handmaidens) the details to avoid hysteria or possible mutiny. Every possibility was considered, and the captain and lieutenant left a very stressed out Sabé to herself after that.

Alone in the deafening silence of the room, the stillness might have been peaceful had her mind been clear. Instead, it was overwhelming. She let her eyes fall closed in an attempt to meditate before doing anything else. Her mind filtered through images and memories of better times, trying to find some semblance of something beautiful and comforting to wrap herself in. She heard sounds of papa's laughter, felt the cool stone of her childhood home's floor on bare feet. She saw mama picking fruit in the summertime, saw sunlight flashing on the ripples in the lake country, could almost smell the fresh flowers growing, could remember walking on thick carpets of grass as she tended to vegetables. She saw Zana as a toddler, just learning to walk, papa helping her and cheering her on with every step. Most of all, Sabé remembered feeling safe. Until the day when everything changed. Without meaning to, she was now remembering finding out their parents were gone. Standing at the funeral with their one aunt who was too unwell to care for them. Nothing and no one could be as torn apart as Sabé had been on that day of finality. She had held in her tears, refusing to show any weakness… only resolve. Zana had been so young and didn't understand—had asked for months when Papa and Mama were coming back. It was almost worse when she finally stopped asking altogether.

Sabé opened her eyes and was met with the apathetic smooth metal and grey surfaces of the ship around her. Her throat and chest hurt from grief. She had taken care of her sister, but no one had taken care of her. She stood again, fleeing her feelings and leaving the room to go find something— _anything_ —to do.

* * *

Underneath the endless expanse of ombré sky, Obi-Wan watched as the setting suns kissed Tatooine's bleak landscape in shades of gold, orange, and violet. Just a few paces off from the ship, the passengers had built a small fire to cook on out of whatever they could scavenge from nearby. In dusk, the temperature was almost pleasant— _almost_. Obi-Wan watched everyone working as a team to make dinner and eat it, and received his portion from one of the handmaidens with a small, grateful smile. The queen would catch his eye every now, each time appearing resentful and then quickly looking away. He could understand her feelings he supposed, from a certain point of view.

Obi-Wan had hauled out the destroyed hyperdrive earlier—an act of good faith in Qui-Gon's plan—which in full honesty he absolutely found ludicrous just as the Queen and her captain had. But it wasn't his place to question, and he had been in this same situation, more or less, many times before. Qui-Gon always found a way, and that was because of his unwavering path of obedience to the will of the Force.

The junked hyperdrive that would hopefully soon be replaced with another one was now a few paces off from the ship and being used as a seat by none other than the Queen of Naboo, who was still forgoing the royal gown and makeup she'd had on yesterday. Separated a bit from everyone else encircling the dying fire, she looked into the far distance with a gaze that indicated she was thinking deeply, but about what, it was hard to say. Breeze stirred her carefully-styled hair out of its earlier perfection, little wisps and flyaways dancing around her hairline. Somehow, Obi-Wan found her far more regal this way.

Perhaps out of boredom or out of a wish to perhaps reconcile, Obi-Wan approached her after eating the food he'd been given. "May I?" he asked, indicating the other end of the hyperdrive beside her. She glanced at him with a cautious expression before looking away toward the suns again which were close to sinking below the horizon. She didn't say yes or no, but he had a feeling she would have certainly, unapologetically told him to get tossed if she'd been so inclined. So, he took that as a yes and sat. He motioned to the small bowl near her where her dinner had been. A stew of some sort had been made from the local fare, and it had been, for lack of a better term, pungent and odd. "What did you think of the… whatever it is?" he asked her conversationally.

She remained guarded and aloof, not looking back at him yet. "I'm just glad we're not starving _and_ totally kriffed," she said, then gave a dark little eyebrow shrug that told him she wasn't totally shutting him out of her humorous side. " _Yet_ anyway." That made him smile to himself in amusement. A monarch who wasn't afraid to let a swear word fly was refreshing to be sure. Without context, the queen looked at him directly and asked a question he didn't know the context for. "What's his name?"

"…What's who's name?" Obi-Wan asked, brow furrowing up.

"The ten year old boy your master is betting on."

"Ah. His name is Anakin."

The queen nodded contemplatively and looked into the burning last light of day, her face lit soft orange by the light. "Gods be with you Anakin," she said softly, a mixture of worried and resigned.

Earlier she had been infuriated and he guessed she still was highly unhappy with Qui-Gon's gamble, but her wish spoken out into the universe on Anakin's behalf was an act of someone who had a compassionate, empathetic soul. Someone who could overlook the small details for the bigger picture. Obi-Wan stilled himself and tuned himself into the deep river of Force energy surrounding them all. Amidala's presence felt steadfast near to him, and he felt purity of intention radiating off of her that he'd felt earlier, too. He also sensed fear, defeat yet a fighting spirit, grief, fatigue, sadness, longing, and underneath all of that an intensity driving it all, something deeper altogether. He studied her profile which was sharp and soft at the same time, fierce yet gentle too. It was becoming easy to understand how she had become leader of an entire planet. Obi-Wan said as much, too. "I'm beginning to see why you were elected queen." It drew a curious, shrewd look that asked a silent why. He then fumbled a bit. He didn't feel like he quite knew how to put it. "There's… a certain strength to you, Milady."

For a beat, it looked like she was genuinely touched, but then she shook her head and smiled self-consciously. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Jedi Kenobi." _Ah, Jedi Kenobi again._ Earlier that day he'd asked her to call him by a less formal address, but he supposed she was purposefully reverting to decorum to convey how she felt. Then she corrected herself softly, surprising him. "Obi-Wan."

A peace offering, perhaps. As typical, Obi-Wan used humor to lighten the mood. "I'm only trying to get back on your good side," he joked. Although he wouldn't have minded it truth be told. After all, an alliance forged in friendship was stronger than one forged by necessity.

" _If_ that boy wins the race and we get off this rock…" she said noncommittally (but she had the look of hiding an amused smile), "I'll think about it."

Obi-Wan appreciated her open-mindedness. For now it seemed a cautious alliance was being forged on her side even though she was soured to him and his master after today's news. In the interest of nurturing whatever trust could be built—Qui-Gon said gaining the trust of those you served was tantamount to success—Obi-Wan decided to share something more personal with the queen. "In the interest of full disclosure, I think you should know I don't always approve of Qui-Gon's decisions or actions." This did indeed draw the queen's interest, and she was again looking at him intently. Humor again tinted Obi-Wan's delivery: "But, there is no law that says a Jedi Padawan has to agree with his master. Only obey."

Amidala did not look amused at that last part. "Obedience is for the brainless."

A little crooked smile accompanied one of his eyebrows raising slightly. "Are you calling me brainless?" he asked trollishly. But she didn't wither like he supposed she might, only challenged him silently with a look. Obi-Wan steered back toward his point and away from the urge to keep joking around, even if her responses _were_ entertaining. "I do know his character, Milady. He wouldn't do this unless he fully believed."

The queen digested that for a moment, appearing to truly consider what he was saying. "Well I prefer reason over belief," she finally replied, her gaze challenging him again.

"Then I'm afraid you were sent the wrong pair of Jedi," Obi-Wan replied, matching her challenging tone.

Her eyes studied his unnervingly, and it reminded him of earlier that day when he'd been so close that her eyes had looked like entire planets. "You're not like him," she said. "I can tell. Pardon my arrogance, but I'm an excellent judge of character and I think you operate very differently than him. What would you do in his place, for example?"

A very fair question that he didn't entirely know how to answer, maybe because he was so distracted by her eyes and piercing gaze. He came up with nothing. "Not wager a ship in a race with a ten year old boy as my pilot, I certainly can say that," he admitted, looking away. He didn't know how to explain it except to say, "The Force is at work here. Somehow. And that's all I know." Something about the way her face reacted to that statement made Obi-Wan smile almost teasingly. "Do you think me superstitious?"

It was her turn to look away. "I prefer things I can see," she replied almost primly. "Test."

Master Yoda and most other council members wouldn't have approved of what Obi-Wan did next, but his irreverent, mischievous spirit at some moments truly couldn't be denied. He looked over at the sand near where Amidala was gazing and using the Force to coax it up into a tiny whirlwind that danced upward then exploded like a firework. He thoroughly enjoyed the startled, awed little look from her. "Can you see _that_?" he asked blithely.

Amidala looked at him in a new light that was equal parts surprised, admiring, annoyed, and… something else. Either way, she delicately admitted: "I concede." She studied him sidelong in a more veiled way for a few seconds, and the last of the suns light sank underneath the horizon ahead of them. The world would soon become blue, then velvet black as night descended. Nearby, officers and pilots were kicking sand over the fire to extinguish it, and others were gathering up everything they'd brought out to return inside.

"Is your arm all right?" Obi-Wan asked, suddenly remembering that the queen had been injured earlier that day. He'd almost forgotten in all the activity since then, plus the fact that she hadn't done anything to remind him or give away the fact that she was hurt.

She was now looking at the cooling sky above them where stars were becoming more visible every passing minute. "I do think I'll survive," she said, a coy and final statement that seemed to imply that she didn't want him to ask anything further.

From somewhere too close for comfort, a long and lonesome howl sounded, startling the entire group of people outside the ship. Both the queen and the Jedi sat up straighter at the sound even as Captain Panaka passed by with darting eyes. "Better get inside, I don't think it's safe out here."

* * *

The ship was quiet and the hour late. The cockpit was dark save for the wash of red light from the consoles. He had of course considered the option of sleep, but something was troubling him and he couldn't say what. He felt an encroaching darkness, an elusive promise of menace. Obi-Wan looked over the vast, starlit landscape visible outside of the cockpit windows. Mos Espa was a soft glow off to the east, and everything else was bleak and plain, seemingly devoid of life, although his senses said otherwise. This place and the things he was feeling here left a strange, foreboding feeling in the pit of his stomach and he couldn't say why. He would certainly be glad when they left.

Alone with his thoughts, Obi-Wan contented himself to patrol the ship in an effort to relieve his restlessness. He stole carefully through the ship, all but silent as he listened to the soft creaks of the hull against gusts of night wind. The occupants of the royal starship had, for the most part, settled in for the night, sleeping as they did last night: wherever they could find a spot. Many people were on the floor. Blankets were in short supply but luckily the ship had decent insulation and the air circulation was still working. For now. Panaka never seemed to sleep, and was doing the same as Obi-Wan—patrolling, if not more obviously. He had two guards posted at the ship exit point as well.

Obi-Wan came to the doorway to the royal chambers and paused there, feeling a presence beyond that door and wall that was becoming familiar. Her. She was distraught, and her feelings were incredibly loud unlike when he had been face to face with her. Struck by sympathy and empathy, it was almost like some of those feelings came into him too. Contemplating for a moment, Obi-Wan did the only the he could. He placed a hand against the wall beside the door and willed the Force to send feelings of peace and rest to wash over the queen the best he could. Some Jedi were empath-gifted and much better at this sort of thing, but he wasn't particularly gifted in much of anything—just decent or passable at most things. Either way, he hoped the small act could help her.

* * *

In the royal chambers, Rabé and Eirtaé slept deeply, but Sabé sat on the floor pull-out cot and watched the three moons in the dark blue sky through the viewport in distressed sleeplessness. She couldn't get away from her thoughts or grief, and even though she was absolutely exhausted mind and soul, same as last night she didn't think she could sleep while people back home were dying and suffering. Sio Bibble's plea played in her head over and over, she saw Zana being taken away from her again and again. Guilt and despair were eating her alive. Although her face remained still, tears came out of her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. If tomorrow didn't work out, if they were stuck here much longer…

The "what ifs" were too much to think about and Sabé shut her eyes, trying to feel less. Instead she only felt worse. And then without explanation, a warmth descended over her like stepping into the sun after being in the shade for a long time. Peace and relaxation and a feeling of reassurance surrounded her. Amazed and perplexed, Sabé looked upward and around on instinct, but she saw nothing and no one. Calm and rest settled over her heavily, calling her to sleep and telling her it was going to be all right. Her body gave in, relaxing down into the bed beneath her as her eyes shut softly and sleep came at last.


	5. City of a Thousand Lights

**The Next Day**

The faint light just before sunrise woke Sabé, who for a moment was unsure of where she was thanks to deep and dreamless sleep. The royal starship was still quiet—no footsteps or conversations muffled from behind walls could be heard. The queen's decoy sat slowly, propping herself onto an elbow as she gathered her bearings and remembered herself. The restful feeling from good sleep didn't last long. Today was three days since they'd left Naboo. Three days far too long. Anxiety and dread began to return, and Sabé shivered, but not from cold. A keen, strange sense of something being off vaguely settled over her. Her first thought was her sister. The second was the race scheduled for mid morning. Dismissing the sinister glimmer as anxiety, Sabé moved the covers aside and rose, gently waking Rabé and Eirtaé. Movement and action was the only thing keeping her sane right now… that, and her role. Removing herself from herself was a comfort right now.

That was part of the reason that she decided to wear the royal makeup and the black feathered gown again. To hide.

* * *

Blinking back the heaviness of sleep-deprived eyelids, Obi-Wan crossed a wire over and touched it against another one. In the middle of the currently empty throne room, the entire console that he'd hauled up out of the floor looked ripped apart to shreds, but he knew exactly what he was doing here. Mostly. With any luck, he'd have broken into the local HoloNet within a few more minutes. He'd been at it since the crack of dawn now. The race was set to start within the hour, and the Queen, handmaidens, and captain would view it in private here.

Obi-Wan was still worrying about Qui-Gon's decision although he wouldn't admit to it aloud. His master's penchant for defying the council, breaking rules, and testing the resolves and patience of those around him was often maddening for someone more comfortable with by-the-book methods such as Obi-Wan.

The blank display before him suddenly came to life with what appeared to be a local cooking show, and Obi-Wan's spirits lifted as a small victorious expression brightened his face. He was in, now to find out how to switch channels and find a live broadcast of the race—plus get the volume to work. He returned his focus to the console grid, trying different commands and searches. This type of thing soothed him: figuring things out, seeing how they worked.

Despite the momentary fascination with the console, Obi-Wan's uneasy sensation persisted, the same one he'd felt last night. It wasn't so much a worry that they wouldn't find a way off the planet, but there was something about this Anakin boy that left an unexplained feeling in the deepest parts of Obi-Wan. That and last night the energy of the Force had felt so ominous and clouded, like walls closing in. It had him on edge and ready to leave this place. Something wasn't right.

A soft noise behind him abruptly brought him out of his thoughts. Obi-Wan turned his head to see an increasingly familiar young Queen—she was in her black feathered gown again with the royal, mask-like makeup on. A vote of confidence in the race and its outcome, perhaps? She embodied a totally different demeanor and person presenting herself like that—her energy was much more controlled and neutral than yesterday and last night. Her two handmaidens were silent behind her in their orange-to-yellow gowns. Obi-Wan noticed then that Amidala was looking at him as if he had two heads, and then at the Holo display, her handmaidens doing the same. Obi-Wan followed her gaze to the display, and aghast, saw a sensually dancing alien girl in barely any clothes on the screen that, a moment ago, had displayed the cooking special.

An immediate reaction of heat and embarrassment swallowed him, taking him back to a very preteen type of feeling as he scrambled to change the display. "I'm—hacking channels, I—didn't... this wasn't..." he fumbled with the console grid and the channel changed to what appeared to be a love drama.

Amidala gave him a hidden smile as she floated by, apparently amused. Whether it was at his gaffe or his verbal stumbles, he wasn't sure. "Good day for a race, isn't it?"

Flabbergasted and feeling quite undignified but fully aware he would find it funny _later_ , Obi-Wan watched the display more carefully after that as he entered code.

* * *

Obi-Wan found the live feed of the race—called the Boonta Eve Classic—and the small group settled in with nervous anticipation to watch. None of them had ever seen podracing before. A deadly, high-speed, and terrifying event unfolded before the viewers in which racers careened at breakneck speeds through the wild and dangerous Tatooine terrain. Many of the podracers crashed into each other or into natural obstacles, their pods going up in fiery explosions. Dirty cheats and tricks seemed normal and acceptable. Anakin was the only human racer among seventeen other competitors. His piloting abilities were incredible. Almost superhuman.

While Sabé and the other handmaidens were dressed more formally than yesterday, the anxiety of the race soon had Sabé on the edge of her seat on the throne without a thought to what her face was doing while Eirtaé and Rabé both sat on one of the side benches opposite of Obi-Wan with drawn, nervous expressions instead of carefully masked ones. Pretense was forgotten for the time. Panaka paced back and forth, unable to hold still as the tension rose and race grew closer and closer. Even Obi-Wan visibly was working hard to keep his expression acceptably neutral.

It was the longest fifteen minutes conceivable, leaving everyone's hearts pounding and emotions tense as the stakes grew higher and higher. When Anakin shot over the finish line, not only winning the race but in record time too, Sabé stood up fast and let out a huge, gaunt breath that she'd been holding, so relieved and also shocked. Qui-Gon had somehow been right about this. Even Panaka was grinning, a fist clenched in victory. Rabé and Eirtaé were breathlessly grinning. Obi-Wan smiled too. He'd clearly been just as worried as the rest of them even if his expression had remained more guarded.

Qui-Gon, Padmé, and Jar Jar returned not long after with the new hyperdrive in tow. The handmaidens and their queen were reunited privately in the royal quarters and there were fierce hugs and declarations of how worried they'd all been about the other. Padmé was more tan and seemed more at ease than when they'd seen her last. She gushed over Anakin and his mother Shmi, recounting everything she'd been through and seen in this strange new place during in the past few days, then reported how resistant she'd been to Qui-Gon's plan. Sabé then told her of what had happened on the ship the past few days, including the transmission from Naboo. Padmé received word of Sio Bibble's message and sobered a great deal, then changed out of her plainer clothes to the flame gown once more, her energy shifting into a more somber place. Just before she was about to go out into the tech station to view Bibble's message, the ship took off without any notice from anyone, roughly too, and the women all jolted, nearly falling from the sudden movement. A moment later, Panaka comm'ed and said to meet him in the throne room. He gave no other explanation.

* * *

Sabé took her seat on the throne and with her handmaiden entourage watched as a very unexpected site greeted them. Still in his plain clothes, Qui-Gon's came in followed closely by… a sandy haired child. Obi-Wan and Panaka trailed. Panaka seemed as perplexed by the child as Sabé was. Obi-Wan appeared mildly disgruntled.

"Your Highness, we're on our way," Panaka announced. Immediately, Sabé noticed he seemed slightly off. "About eight standard hours and we'll be on Coruscant."

Trying to read him but not succeeding, she played along. "A relief to be sure." Sabé said slowly, then let her eyes go to Anakin, whose face she already recognized from seeing him on the HoloNet earlier. He looked flustered, sweaty, and overwhelmed. "Is this who I think it is?" she asked, remaining purposefully vague and careful.

"Your Highness, it's a pleasure to see you again," Qui-Gon said, drawing her attention. He also looked a little flushed and sweaty, like he'd just run a distance. "May I introduce Anakin Skywalker. He is coming to Coruscant with us to become a Jedi." She hid her surprise at this unexpected announcement. Where was his mother? Padmé didn't seem to know either—at her post at the entrance of the room, her face registered surprise too. Sabé looked at the boy again, studying him curiously as Qui-Gon made introductions. "Anakin, this is Queen Amidala of Naboo."

He was small compared to everyone else in the room, and seemed shellshocked by everything—his eyes had been widely going from everything from the matte metal paneling to the handmaidens gowns to the tech port on the far wall to Sabé's royal appearance. He swallowed, staring at her nervously. "Wow, umm… lovely to meet your acquaintance, Miss Queen Amidala," he said in a voice that was still young and sweet. He sounded unsure of himself and intimidated. He reminded her of someone else she knew very much in that moment.

"Hello Anakin," Sabé greeted, smiling softly and feeling a lot of empathy for him. She didn't have to think too hard on what to say to him. "We want to thank you very much for what you did for us and everything you risked. You are very brave indeed."

"Y-you're very welcome," he replied, but he looked like he was becoming upset. Possibly near tears. Suddenly aware of how different a place he was in. With strangers, or near strangers anyway.

Sabé followed her gut instinct and stood up, going to him. "What's wrong?" she asked as she knelt to be eye to eye with him. He met her eyeline hesitantly, seeming deeply afraid. Sabé was gentle and understanding, resonating with his fear and pain. "A lot's happened today, hasn't it?"

"Yes, ma'am," he all but whispered back.

Sabé nodded, speaking to him as if they were the only two people in the room. "I understand. This must be very overwhelming for you." She turned slightly. "Padmé, will you take Anakin and get him settled in? Maybe show him how to play Dejarik?"

That sparked a positive reaction from Anakin. "Hey, I've heard of that game!"

Sabé's smile increased a bit. "Well now you can play it, too." She lowered her voice conspiratorially, bringing a touch of playfulness. "Padmé's not too good at it either, so maybe you'll win."

Anakin nodded and a little hopeful smile showed. Then he seemed to decide he needed to keep things formal when he made himself be more serious and gave a little bow. "Thank you, Queen Amidala." Sabé bowed her head a bit, parroting him, then stood up.

"This way, Ani," Padmé said, and he took her waiting hand as they went to the lift.

Turning her attention to the watchful Jedi and grim captain, Sabé didn't bother retaking the throne. Someone wasn't telling her something. "What's happened? Why the sudden takeoff?"

Panaka seemed to have been sitting on questions of his own. "What was that thing that attacked you?" he asked Qui-Gon sharply. "It looked like you almost lost the fight."

Her pulse picked up. "Fight? What fight?" Sabé asked, eyes narrowing deeply. She automatically looked to Obi-Wan to see if his expression would tell her anything. It only seemed to indicate that he was grave.

"Just as we took off," Panaka said. "An adversary in the desert." Panaka looked at Qui-Gon with a slightly challenging, mistrustful glint in his eyes. "He wielded a lightsaber."

Her stomach clenched and flipped—she again looked at Obi-Wan briefly. She saw a telltale swallow and a brief flicker of apprehension.

Qui-Gon appeared bothered and closed off. Perhaps shaken up. "Whatever it was, we need to watch ourselves more closely. Something isn't right here." His body language indicated he was about to walk away, and he threw a meaningful, serious look to Panaka. "Tighten your security, especially when we land. The Queen's life may depend on it." His words left an ominous effect. And with nothing more, he turned and left. Obi-Wan met Sabé's gaze for a brief moment, then he dutifully left without a word. Somehow, his silence left her feeling stung. Sabé told herself she was being foolish, and lifted her chin while setting her jaw as she watched him leave.

Nearby, Panaka watched her shrewdly.

* * *

**Eight Hours Later**

Coruscant: a planet that was more city than planet. Sabé had little idea of what to expect when they touched down onto the initial landing platform. The first thing she experienced as the gangplank let down was the smell that hit her nostrils. It was a very metallic, fuel-adjascent type of smell, accompanied by air that felt distinctly dingy and unpleasantly warm. There was no possible comparison to the cool, purely fragrant and earthy Naboo air. They began to make their way out, with the two Jedi leading the way. Qui-Gon's earlier words about security made Sabé's pulse increase. The noise pollution was what her senses picked up on next. A steady stream of starships, aircraft, generators, and speeders made for quite the racket. The only thing to be seen in all directions were skyscrapers of various heights and criss-crossing lines of traffic threading throughout them.

The next thing Sabé noticed was a familiar face: Sheev Palpatine, their senate representative. Beside him was Supreme Chancellor Valorum. While Palpatine's face held a carefully pleasant smile, Valorum looked serious and unapproachable. A sense of distaste filled her mouth.

As Sabé approached, the Jedi were bowing in greeting, then making room for her to approach the awaiting dignitaries. Obi-Wan caught her eyes and his expression made her feel odd, a surge of what compared to adrenaline kicking in. She broke the gaze and focused on her job, but the slightly unnerved feeling remained.

* * *

Soft silk, crushed velvet, hand-dipped lace—Sabé carefully sifted through the Queen's wardrobe containers, organizing pieces for later and taking inventory of what had been brought over from the royal ship.

It was a couple hours after they had made their landing and arrived safely via air taxi to Senator Palpatine's quarters. He had a massive two-level complex at his disposal, and Amidala and her entourage had been given his guest quarters to stay in.

Alone with the silence of the suite, Sabé did feel relieved to be off the ship but was still antsy to be doing something more meaningful than sort through gowns and slips. Padmé had taken Eirtaé and Rabé with her to the Senate Tower to bring their emergency before the government, which sounded more important—but Sabé needed to stay out of sight in such a public arena. A quiet live feed of the current senate proceedings was playing behind her, but so far Amidala's time hadn't come.

As soon as they had arrived here and been given some privacy, Sabé tried using her comm on a main channel. She tried contacting Zana and Gregar, as well as a few other people who were still behind on Naboo. No messages or hails went through. None awaited her either. Resigned to continue the maddening wait was all she could do. The same feeling she'd felt on the ship stranded on Tatooine haunted her. Stuck, trapped, waiting.

Pausing for a moment, Sabé's gaze was drawn to the large window across the room where the Coruscant afternoon traffic passed by. She could see the Jedi Temple in the distance. Setting the garment in her hands down for a moment, she drifted toward the window and took it all in. Coruscant was beautiful in its own way, she could admit that. At night it probably looked like a starscape with all the lights in the endless buildings. Her gaze wandered the skyscrapers and finally rested on the temple.

It was a famous building that came up both in reference and image throughout educational materials over the years. While the Jedi were common knowledge throughout the galaxy, they were mysterious too. Almost like living legends. Meeting them was a more rare occurrence for the majority of galactic citizens. Sabé included.

She began thinking about Obi-Wan without fully realizing when her brain shifted from Jedi as a whole to specifically him. Her mind replayed the sight of his profile as the Tatooine sun went down, leaving his features golden orange. She could hear the sound of his voice, so pleasantly accented and smooth, a pleasing tenor. She thought back vaguely to their conversations, both serious and meaningless, how easy it was to trade verbal spars. Then she was thinking of the moment he'd touched her face. The brilliant crystal blue trance of his eyes studying hers so deeply and surprisingly. Even his presence had a certain… _feeling_ to it.

Sabé caught herself and was immediately disappointed and mildly embarrassed. _You silly girl._ Thinking about an unavailable man while her planet was in crisis. Like a damsel in a distress. Like a romantically notioned schoolgirl. Almost angrily, Sabé turned away from the window and returned to her job, glancing sharply at the distance silhouette of the Jedi temple as if she were unhappy with it. She blamed the stress of the current situation and how likable she found Obi-Wan. She would probably never see him again after this, and she reminded herself of that firmly.

" _The Chair recognizes the Senator from the sovereign system of_ _Naboo._ _"_ The Chancellor on the Holo broadcast said, and Sabé quickly turned up the volume and forgot everything else. The rest of her life hung in the balance of what happened there today.

* * *

Not so far away at the same moment, Obi-Wan took his gaze away from where it had been resting for a few previous moments: the distant senate quarters building where Amidala would now be staying. Of course, she wasn't there right now so he wasn't sure why he'd been called like that, urged to look across the distance at the far off structure.

By himself in a meditation and tech room (it functioned as whichever one the user preferred), Obi-Wan was seated cross-legged facing a floor-to-ceiling window. Nearby, a Holo screen played the Senate live feed. _"The Chair recognizes the Senator from the sovereign system of Naboo,"_ Valorum was saying.

Being lost in his own worries and problems, Obi-Wan didn't really pay his full attention. Back at the Jedi Temple was similar to being home for him but the strange and restless feeling remained. He stewed over Qui-Gon's mysterious attacker on Tatooine. Obi-Wan had caught a brief glimpse of the adversary in the sand kicked up from the intensity of the fight. Flashes of red lighsaber against black clothing. It was deeply troubling and left a bitter, dark feeling deep inside. Sith weren't supposed to exist anymore. Could it be true?

" _I come to you under the gravest of circumstances. The Naboo system has been invaded by force. Against all the laws of the Republic—"_

Obi-Wan's attention was broken at the deep, put-on woman's voice. He frowned shrewdly at the woman displayed on screen, his attention stolen out of his thoughts. The woman on the screen appeared to be Queen Amidala, wearing the makeup and a spectacularly elaborate gown and hairstyle, but… he knew it right away, the second he set eyes on her. Whoever that was… was _not_ the queen he'd been with on Tatooine.

* * *

**Late That Night**

After Padmé returned to Palpatine's residence from the senate, she was in a deep state of sadness. She had called for a vote of no confidence in Valorum after he did nothing to aid their crisis, but a new nomination would take time. Time they did not have. After about thirty quiet and contemplative minutes back in the senate quarters, Padmé abruptly announced that they were leaving for Naboo immediately. She did not divulge her reasoning to even the captain or handmaidens. She also declined for Sabé to play her part, even when the captain said it was a security risk due to the Tatooine attack. Padmé insisted on traveling as queen.

When they boarded the starship, Anakin and Qui-Gon awaited them, but no Obi-Wan. For a few moments, Sabé wondered in quiet disappointment if he had stayed behind.

As the Queen's entourage settled into the throne room, Obi-Wan came in. He was decidedly sour, like something had upset him. But of all things, he didn't look at Amidala like Sabé had expected. His eyes went straight to _her_. Startled, Sabé tried not to react at all, tried to look away in time. Her hood in the yellow-to-orange ombré gown obscured her features well, or she thought so anyway. She made a point to not look at him at all after that, but it felt too late. Did he know? Sabé's worry briefly caused her to lack ability to focus in and listen on the conversation happening. When she refocused herself, Panaka was speaking.

"The moment we land the Federation will arrest you, and force you to sign the treaty," he argued.

"I agree… I'm not sure what you hope to accomplish by this," Qui-Gon said.

Behind the mask, Padmé was deadly serious. "I'm going to take back what's ours," she said in the deep monotone voice. More confused than before, Sabé waited silently. How could they do that against the hundreds of thousands of droids?

"There are only a few of us, Your Highness, we have no army," Panaka replied, his tone hard. It seemed like he thought Padmé was stupid from the way he spoke.

Qui-Gon was a little less abrasive than the captain. "I cannot fight a war for you, Your Highness, only protect you."

And then, the most unexpected sentence the queen might ever utter: "Jar Jar Binks."

Lurking behind the Jedi with a mindless and distracted look on his gangly features, the Gungan startled. "… _Mesa_ , Your Highness?"

Everyone in the throne room seemed to share the same sentiment of surprise and confusion. "Yes," Padmé replied without missing a beat. "I need your help."

Jar Jar scratched his head, his bulbous eyes swiveling around expressively as he tried to make sense of it. "Err… hozwa dat?"

"Our two people need to band together now to defeat the common evil that has come against us," Padmé said. "Do you think you can facilitate a meeting between us?"

The Gungan visibly worked very hard to try to understand her question and words, but could only come up with a confused look. "Uhh… _whet_?"

"Can you help us find the Gungans so we can speak to them?" Obi-Wan asked, an edge of impatience sharpening his tone. Sabé dared look at him again. As if he felt it, his eyes met hers.

Jar Jar lit up, nodding enthusiastically. "Ohh, yah! I tink yes, whya dint say so in da firsty place?!"

Sabé dropped her eyes down. Obi-Wan knew. She could just tell. He _knew_.

* * *

The Queen's appeal to the Gungan was perhaps one of the strangest scenes Obi-Wan had ever witnessed. It wasn't something he would forget soon, either. After the meeting in the throne room adjourned, Obi-Wan went to the tech station by himself and sat with his feelings of rejection and replacement. Qui-Gon had stood in front of the council and readily dropped Obi-Wan as his apprentice, trying to train Anakin instead. He had it in his mind that Anakin was the chosen one. The council said no—Anakin was too old, too fearful. Qui-Gon had accepted that… for now. But that didn't lessen the sting that Obi-Wan had unexpectedly felt in that moment, or even now. He shouldn't feel that way at all according to the Code. And yet he did.

Presently, one of the queen's handmaidens passed by in a whisper of expensive sounding fabric, and Obi-Wan's attention immediately followed her. She went to the small ship canteen and set to work making a hot drink of some kind. It was her. The so-called queen he'd spent time with on Tatooine. After realizing there was a decoy gambit while watching the senate hearing, Obi-Wan had read Queen Amidala's full file in an attempt to determine which one was the true queen. Her file was full of a more privileged upbringing and time spent in politics. Not time spent on farms or in weapons training. Whoever the young woman he'd met on Tatooine was, she was the decoy. He was sure of it. She was older than Amidala was by a few years he'd wager, and from a different background. Watching her now, he hesitated. He could say nothing and let the situation play out. But there was an urge to speak to her. To find out who she really was. So after some deliberation, he got up and approached her.

She was stirring a mug of hot, amber liquid as he approached, even even though her hood was hiding her face from him presently, he noticed that she tensed a bit nervously and stopped stirring. "Hello there," he greeted.

She knew that he knew, and her slow turn of the head and reluctant gaze gave it away. "Hello." She sighed and looked at the mug she was preparing, keeping her voice low when she finally spoke again. "I suppose it might have been too much to hope a Jedi knight wouldn't figure it out." She looked back at him again, and even though the hood did so much to obscure her features, it couldn't hide her molten eyes or the conflicted emotion there.

"In all fairness, you almost did fool me," he admitted, studying her countenance. Her resemblance to the real queen, who he now seen makeup-less photos of, was astonishing.

She was studying him back. "What gave it away?" she asked after a few measures of silence. She seemed more tentatively curious than anything else.

"I saw the Queen's senate session." He paused. The next three words felt more personal than he realized they would. "She wasn't you." He forged ahead to attempt to escape the more vulnerable feeling he'd suddenly found himself in. "It does explain quite a few things," he said, bringing a more playful smile to his face. "And you _are_ a very close match to the real Amidala. It's quite remarkable, actually."

It was hard to tell what she felt about his words, because she carefully kept her face neutral. "Thank you," she said. "I trust you'll remain quiet about your findings?"

"Of course." He waited, thinking perhaps she would introduce herself to him. This mysterious woman who looked so much like the queen but fought like a trained soldier and knew how to operate farming equipment and spoke her strong opinions readily. But all she did was pick up the mug as if she were about to leave. "…Are you not going to tell me your name?" he asked, then jokingly added, "After all we've been through together?" It felt safer somehow to default to humor.

It did earn him a veiled smile and eye contact that was as fascinating as before. She opened her mouth as if to speak.

Then a short, soft whistle startled them both. Captain Panaka, looking as dour as ever, was giving the handmaiden a commanding look from across the hold, then a jerk of his head as if to indicate she should walk away. Without another word, she gave Obi-Wan a brief and apologetic look, then left with the drink she'd made. The captain stayed right where he was, a distrustful expression on his face as he stared Obi-Wan down. Not one to take a stand on petty things, Obi-Wan took the hint and left that part of the ship. He continued to wonder about her for some time after that.


	6. The Way Home

**Naboo  
** **The Outer Marshes**

They were back where this had all started: The eerily beautiful swamplands of Naboo.

Qui-Gon Jinn contemplated the tranquil lake visible through the treeline ahead. Beneath it, Otah Gunga laid hidden from this upper layer of the Naboo world. Perhaps the answer they sought was there beneath the watery mirror surface… and perhaps not. Behind the wizened Jedi master, the just-landed starship was full of activity as the Queen's people unloaded. But for Qui-Gon, a moment of quiet reflection was needed away from everything.

His mind went back again to the mysterious adversary on Tatooine. The face of this humanoid creature had been red and black… tattooed perhaps. The sickly yellow eyes sunken deep into those slashes of color were what he remembered most clearly. Whispers of evil curled around Qui-Gon, and a cold feeling that was not physical persisted. However, answering that phantom menace, hope sang strong. Qui-Gon smiled to himself, but it was not a joyful expression. It was bittersweet. _Balance. Always balance._

Some Jedi Knights had gifts of prophesy and premonition. Qui-Gon had never felt nor experienced that he was particularly gifted in either. Yet ever since meeting Anakin, it was as if a new part of himself had been brought to the surface. He was more convinced than even he understood: Truly, this boy was the chosen one. Or, more specifically… the first of the chosen ones. Anakin Skywalker was the beginning of a grand balance, a new hope. Over the past two days, Qui-Gon had seen visions of the boy, and not only of him, but his children. Vague, brief glimpses into a journey he did not understand, but did not need to. The Force would write the story. All Qui-Gon needed to do was remain faithful. It was troubling that the council refused to see or believe in Qui-Gon's conviction about Anakin. But as always, the master rested in the knowledge that the Force would find a way.

Another revelation that had been recently given to Qui-Gon: a persistent guiding notion that he would not be a part of this plane of existence for much longer. His end was near, and he could feel it keenly. Instead of feeling dread or fear, Qui-Gon only experienced fascination and openness. He was a servant of the living Force, and trusted the path completely. Nothing could deter him from living in the present moment or accepting whatever the hand of fate held for him. Regardless, it was strange. It made him feel more reflective, more full of wonder for all he had seen and been part of in this life.

Nearby, he felt Obi-Wan's approach before he heard the recognizable footfalls of his boots. His apprentice came to stand beside him, then hesitated as Qui-Gon remained gazing softly into vague distance. "Jar Jar is on his way to the Gungan city, Master."

Qui-Gon gave a subtle nod. He was still deep in his thoughts. "Good."

A brief pause. "Do you think the Queen's idea will work?"

Qui-Gon glanced sidelong thoughtfully. Obi-Wan wanted to talk, yes, but about something else altogether. "The Gungans will not easily be swayed, and we cannot use our power to help her," he replied. Two things his apprentice already undoubtedly knew. If Qui-Gon's experience were correct, he knew Obi-Wan would gather his courage and say what he _really_ wanted to say next.

Obi-Wan's hesitant words confirmed the theory. "I'm… I'm sorry for my behavior, Master. It is not my place to disagree with you about the boy." Qui-Gon's interest was more fully drawn. "I _am_ grateful you think I am ready for the trials."

Qui-Gon studied his padawan for a long moment, seeing their years together in the span of a mere heartbeat. When he first met Obi-Wan, he had seen something in him that no one else had. While many may have looked down on the young Kenobi and judged his more basic Force abilities and traditional sensibilities as being bland or uninspired, Qui-Gon had always seen a man of caliber. Someone loyal, steadfast, and unassumingly brilliant with a prowess that was found in a fiercely quiet strength, not showmanship and flair. Although Obi-Wan _did_ have his moments where the last two were concerned. When Qui-Gon had chosen him, Obi-Wan had flourished like a flower given water and light. His transformation and growth so far was powerful to bear witness to. And as such, with his mortality bearing down upon him, Qui-Gon shared his thoughts so that Obi-Wan would never have to wonder. "You have been a good apprentice," he said with a fond smile, much more meaning in this moment for himself with the knowledge that he would not be here much longer. "You are much wiser than I am, Obi-Wan. I foresee you will become a great Jedi Knight."

Obi-Wan was touched by the words—Qui-Gon could both feel and see it. But in true Kenobi style, the younger Jedi sidestepped the compliments. "If that it so, it is in largest part due to your guidance, Master."

Qui-Gon smiled again, his eyes crinkling faintly as he turned to fully face his padawan and put a hand on his shoulder. "Never forget, my friend, that I have learned just as much from you, as you have from me. And for that, I shall forever remain thankful." He would not tell Obi-Wan that his time was short. But there was within the current of the Force a deep and sudden urgency to speak, a shockingly strong compulsion to leave his apprentice with words he would take to heart . Qui-Gon grew incredibly intense, speaking without thinking as if he were a mere conduit of the message. "Obi-Wan. Promise me you will follow the will of your heart," he said soft and low, searching the younger Jedi's eyes deeply. "Not only the Jedi code. Not just the council's expectations. But the deepest, purest inclinations of your soul."

Thrown off by the sudden intensity, Obi-Wan's eyebrows had moved together in confusion. "Master?" It was a lesson Qui-Gon had attempted to instill many times in his very by-the-book apprentice, but Obi-Wan found comfort in familiarity of law, tradition, and expectation. Qui-Gon had always felt that this would only hold his padawan back from his most highest calling. _What_ that most high calling was, he could not say. But the Force would call, and perhaps not in ways his apprentice would recognize.

Qui-Gon remained severe in the most gentle of ways. "The Force is at work with you, Obi-Wan. More I think than perhaps anyone will ever know." As he held Obi-Wan's gaze, Qui-Gon's eyes began to go dull to what was in front of them, seeing instead a far away future he would never live to see. He saw a young woman with brown hair twisted into three knots on the back of her head—she had a familiar quiet but fierce strength that was immediately apparent, just as Obi-Wan's had been when Qui-Gon first saw him. The mysterious woman gripped a blue lightsaber with two hands and stood locked into combat against an angry, pale man cloaked in black wielding a red saber. He looked dangerous, broken, hollow. Snow raged around the two of them, even as the invisible energy of the Force did too. An eternal dance of good and evil, light and dark, selfless and selfish culminating with these two strangers Qui-Gon did not know. He immediately understood without knowing how that these two had something to do with Anakin and Obi-Wan. Were these their children? Their descendants? Qui-Gon was given no answer.

The Force whispered to him, warmth and light lifting him out of himself and into the transcendence of eternity and truth. He heard himself speak softly, merely above a whisper, echoing a voice he did not recognize but heard and felt in his bones themselves. " _Light. Darkness. A balance_."

He saw thousands of warriors in white and black and a war that engulfed the entire galaxy. A dark hooded figure, disfigured with a drooping mouth lurking behind them all. A beautiful, worried woman leaned over Obi-Wan—he held her hand to his chest, he looked about fifteen years older perhaps—the two of them were close with eyes locked and anxious expressions. Qui-Gon could sense the torn feelings off of them both. He saw cities burn and felt Anakin's rage, his grief, his trauma, his struggle with the dark side. He saw Obi-Wan fighting a dark Jedi, surrounded by flames and molten lava, he felt his padawan's grief, heard him screaming _no_. He saw twins without a mother, and empty desolate fields of sand, but the sound of a carefree laugh. He saw a weapon the size of a planet traveling through space that could destroy worlds, felt the fear and oppression that wracked the entire galaxy. He saw a house on Tatooine choking on smoke as a young, blonde man screamed helplessly to stop it. And finally, he saw that same woman with the three knots of hair standing at that same house, what appeared to be years and years later. All of it connected, all of it part of the balance, all of it somehow needing to happen in order to be part of the most important story ever told. All of it somehow rooted in Anakin's training.

"I… don't understand, Master."

The vision in front of Qui-Gon evaporated to be replaced by Obi-Wan's concerned, mildly apprehensive expression. A bit shaken up to be so taken from reality so vividly, Qui-Gon processed a moment longer, then nodded, keeping it to himself. He did not need to understand, and some things were not meant to be carried by others.

Obi-Wan waited with a worried expression, and Qui-Gon thought of the vision of seeing him older, in his late thirties or early forties perhaps. With that unknown woman in an unknown circumstance—that woman looked strikingly similar to the one he'd seen with the knotted hair. A feeling of compassion rose in the Jedi Master's chest and he cupped Obi-Wan's cheek briefly, an impulsive expression of fatherly tenderness. He then his hand on his apprentice's shoulder again, seeing how he had thoroughly shaken his learner with his unexplained words and intensity.

"Understanding will always come when the time is right," he counseled. Obi-Wan had a very painful and uncharted path before himself if the visions were any indication. He would need strength and trust, hope. All Qui-Gon could offer was assurance. "Take heart, my young apprentice. The Force is with you, always." Qui-Gon then began to sit down on the dry, earthy forest floor, beckoning Obi-Wan to do the same. "Come. Meditate with me for a moment." He closed his eyes and sought clarity, wisdom, and peace in the face of all that was to come.

* * *

Home again at last, but still so far from resolution. Being again on her homeworld gave feelings of hope mixed with urgency that was difficult to cope with. If Sabé had been a praying person, she would have been on her knees.

She longingly watched Panaka send a small group of officers with Lieutenant Dakana toward Theed—wishing she was one of them, wishing she could leave everything to go find her sister. But her highest duty was to the crown, and by proxy, the people of Naboo. Her personal life had been set aside the day she agreed to become principle decoy handmaiden. Dakana's mission was to find then bring back security forces and anyone else who could stand and fight with them. They would need all the hands they could get. Traveling on foot would be slow, but Dakana was resourceful. Maybe he would manage to find faster transport for his small group. The swamps they currently hiding in were only a fifteen minute speeder ride from Theed, and under an hour's walk. All of it sounded far too long to Sabé, who was ready to take action _now_.

It remained to be seen if the Gungans could be made into allies. The thought of persuading them singlehandedly had her feeling pressured and apprehensive, but Sabé could only hope that in the moment, the words would come. For now, they waited on Jar Jar to return. He'd disappeared beneath the nearby water's surface only a moment or two ago with a declaration of "wishee me da luck, okee day?!" then an ear-splitting yell and an impressive, if totally unnecessary flourishing dive.

Padmé, Rabé, and Eirtaé were nearby, outfitted in dark maroon and gold trimmed battle outfits. Their heads were uncovered and they were praying together, no longer hidden by shapeless cloaks and hoods. Sabé opted to stand away by a few paces and close her eyes while breathing in the comforting scent of home. The air of morning had a pleasant, brisk chill to it. Birds called, and frogas belched back and forth to each other across the water nearby. Breeze stirred the trees and carried the fresh, citrusy scent of their leaves. It could have been just another normal day if she didn't know better.

Dressed again as the queen, Sabé was thankful that she wore a more utilitarian outfit today. The headpiece with the hairpiece attached was of course heavy and impractical, and the makeup felt cloying on her face, but she wore sturdy boots, stretch leggings, and a lightweight belted red-and-black dress that was surprisingly easy to move in… and fight in, if necessary. One blaster was hidden strapped to a thigh under her dress, and another one was inside a hidden pocket on the outside of the dress. The heightened sense of danger was not lost on her. The Trade Federation would have their targets trained on her and the mysterious attacker on Tatooine could possibly be involved too.

Sabé opened her eyes, both grateful and afraid to the point of tears. A thousand 'what ifs' played through her mind… most of them negative. Her eyes drifted. Nearby, Anakin was fiddling around with the droid that had saved their ship—Artoo. The boy was in better spirits now, having had a few hours to adjust. A positive thing to be sure. Sabé's gaze wandered more and landing on the two Jedi, who sat crosslegged and facing each other with eyes closed. Their hands rested on their knees in meditation. Obi-Wan's face looked tranquil, as if he were sleeping. He had rugged but simultaneously pretty features set against olive toned skin, and a strong cleft chin that seemed to be a continuation of the cupid's bow perched right above his lips. She'd never noticed his eyelashes until now, closed and fanned out against his skin. They were sandy russet. Her eyes lingered on him longer than they should have, then glided down the length of his padawan braid to take in the rise and fall of his chest.

A sound to her left distracted her and startled her. It was Panaka, and he was indicating she come with him a few steps off. "A word, please."

 _Stars' sake._ Silently complying with a sinking feeling, Sabé braced herself for a lecture. She could sense it coming after all these years together. Once they were enough paces off from the others to avoid being overheard, Sabé turned to her captain and tried not to assume she knew what this was going to be about. "What is it, Captain?"

He cut to the chase brusquely, his tone full of implication. "Is something going on with you and the padawan?"

Inwardly she bristled defensively. Outwardly, she only narrowed her eyes a fraction. "Enlighten me to what exactly you're insinuating," she said darkly, as if challenging him. Her pulse had picked up and her nerves were touched.

"I've seen you two speaking at length multiple times now."

A feeling akin to panic and disgrace coursed through her, even though she knew she'd done nothing wrong. Sabé was very careful how she responded to the unspoken accusation. "I haven't compromised anything, if that's what you're worried about."

Panaka raised a disapproving eyebrow. "From my perspective, it almost appeared like you two were _flirting_ , Lieutenant."

The use of her rank was a clear jab at her, an unspoken judgment on her lack of professionalism. His words made her feel offended and demeaned, but at the same time guilty and embarrassed. "Your perspective is incorrect," she retorted icily, fully aware that angry indignant responses would only make her look worse. She diverted. "Furthermore, I'm insulted. Would you ask this if he were a female? Or another species?"

Panaka did take a pause when she said that, but didn't relent. "Well, what need is there for you to speak at length to an outsider, anyway?" he pressed. "What kinds of things is he asking you?"

She had two choices here. Double down, or just tell the captain what he wanted to know. Sabé doubled down, protective over what little privacy she had these days and also a bit enraged that Panaka was choosing to make _this_ an issue during the most dire crisis Naboo had ever faced. "He's an ally, even if he's not one of us," she insisted, and stood a little taller, refusing to break eye contact or show weakness in any way. "You may hold rank over me but I will _not_ be bullied into answering invasive, sexist questions just because of _your_ unfoundedparanoia." It was a little out of line to talk to a superior that way and they both knew it, but the captain didn't say anything—probably because he knew he had been out of line first. "I haven't done anything wrong, Captain," she insisted. "Nor will I." She put out of her mind the way Obi-Wan had touched her face, the fascination she had developed, the magnetic draw she felt toward him, the way she'd just been staring at him before Panaka began this conversation. She dismissed them as nothing more than knowing that a man was attractive. "Our interactions have been friendly and cooperative," she said, feeling distinctly dishonest even as she said it aloud.

Panaka studied her with a vaguely foul expression for a long couple of seconds. "Well I don't like the way he looks at you."

A prick of something made Sabé's heart hammer a little faster and chest zing at that comment. Outwardly, she remained cryptic and shrewd. "And what way does he 'look at me'?" she prompted, her tone insinuating that the captain was being absurd. But she honestly wanted to know.

There was a long pause. "He's too interested," Panaka finally said, then raised a finger to point at her warningly. "Watch yourself, Nebira. That's an order."

 _Too interested._ She would never admit it, but those words about how Obi-Wan apparently looked at her made her feel quite a lot of things all at once. But she immediately wrote it off and didn't even give herself a chance to believe it. She didn't think so. Jedi were famously celibate, or if not celibate, attachment free. Completely dedicated to the Order. It just didn't fit—she hadn't gotten that impression from Obi-Wan. Panaka was wrong. Paranoid. Right? Sabé looked back at where the Jedi had been meditating. They were now standing, and while Qui-Gon looked off toward the swamps, Obi-Wan was looking… directly at her. His expression was hard to place, too neutral to name, but… again, her chest zinged and stomach flipped even as he looked away casually.

"See what I mean?" Panaka muttered, earning himself a dark glance.

"Jar Jar's back!" came a call from one of the pilots, and Panaka gave Sabé another meaningful look then stalked off to join the Jedi, who already were headed toward the water to meet the dripping wet Gungan. Sabé rejoined the ladies, who all curiously watched Jar Jar interacting with the captain and Jedi a few paces off. Anakin came to stand with them, standing near Padmé, who he apparently liked best.

The Gungan gave a tremendous shake, flinging water off of himself just before he reached Panaka and the Jedi Knights—Obi-Wan ducked to avoid being splattered. "Dare-sa nobody dare," Jar Jar said, his thick accent and poor grasp of Basic making him hard to understand. "All gone. Some kinda fight, I tink. Sorry, no Gungas… no Gungas."

Obi-Wan turned toward Qui-Gon and Panaka, his profile strong and handsome against the greenery of Naboo. "Do you think they've been taken to camps?"

Panaka gave him a dour look. "More likely they were wiped out."

"No… mesa no tink so," Jar Jar said, gesturing with his long froggish limbs. "Gungan hiden. When in trouble, go to sacred place. Mackineeks no find dem dere."

The three men briefly glanced at each other. "Can you take us there?" Qui-Gon asked.

"Yah-huh, follow mee!" Jar Jar said happily, already forging through them and toward the group of women waiting further back. He walked past Sabé with zero pretense, surprising her quite a bit by clapping her twice on the shoulder with huge, reptilian hands—the force of it almost made her lose her footing. He didn't notice. "Come un, Queenie, I show you da way okie day?" He was already traipsing off, his gait a strange plodding lurch as his arms gave exaggerated swings at his sides. His long ears flapped against his back with every step he took, and his head moved back and forth in a birdlike way. The Jedi and Panaka had reached the group of women now and Sabé stared after Jar Jar with a bit of dismay and reluctance at their apparent leader.

"Your Highness," Obi-Wan said, gesturing for her to go ahead. Was she imagining the trollish, inside joke she saw in his eyes? Was he laughing at her? Enjoying the fact that he knew she wasn't the real queen and that he knew? With the captain's eyes on her, she primly went ahead without any kind of response to the padawan. She wouldn't give Panaka any ammunition if she could help it. But even as she walked away, she thought about his words again. _Too interested._

"How far is it, Jar Jar?" she asked as they caught up to his slow, lumbering pace. Anything to change her focus.

He grinned widely, showing two disconcerting rows of grayish teeth. "Around deez trees n through swamps n we come to da sacred place, pitty nice!"

That was the _way_ there yes, but still quite terrible directions. Sabé tried again. "How _long_ will it take us to get there?" No answer, only goofy grinning around at the trees around him. " _Jar Jar._ "

He came back to reality with a goofy bulge of the eyes. "Long? Long you spake?" He gave an animated shrug. "I onno! Never tot about it, just went n dere n worship ee gads sumtimes." He craned his neck to the side, forgetting to watch where he went as a colorful bird swooped by overhead. "Ooh, birdy!" The Gungan tripped over a root with a dramatic, delicate "aahh!" but caught himself somehow, laughed nervously, and continued to lead them… somewhere.

"Imbecile," Eirtaé muttered a few steps off from Sabé. Rabé somehow looked equal parts amused and offended.

"Is this truly our last hope?" Sabé asked no one in particular under her breath. Sidelong, Padmé looked a little less confident than she had before, but they forged ahead without any other choices. The Republic wouldn't help them, so they would help themselves. With or without the Gungans.

* * *

After about an hour of walking in mostly silence and doubting if Jar Jar actually knew where they were going, they came to a part of the woods where the swamps were thicker and much more shallow. Vines hung from trees like ropes. The light had a harder time reaching into the more dense foliage, making the landscape feel a little haunting. Birds gave soulful, echoing calls, adding to the ominous effect. They at last came to an enormous weathered stone head, halfway sunken into the mucky ground. It stared unseeingly at them, and moss grew up its sides. "Dissen it," Jar Jar announced, then made a strange chattering noise that echoed disconcertingly. Out of nowhere, a handful of Gungan warriors appeared riding on Kaadus—a bipedal, lizardlike creature. The Gungans held spears menacingly at the refugees. Sabé felt the energy of the group shift to nervousness. It was immediately apparent: These were completely different kinds of Gungans than Jar Jar was. "Heyo-dalee, Captain Tarpals," Jar Jar said with a jittery grin at the one seemingly in charge.

"Binks! Noah gain!" Captain Tarpals exclaimed in a throaty voice. He was more gray in color than Jar Jar's orange, and he seemed much older too.

"We comen to see da boss," Jar Jar explained, shuffling jumpily, cringing almost.

Tarpals narrowed his eyes, looked over the group, and made a low growling sound. As if he was threatening them and deliberating at the same time. He decided to honor the request and motioned jerkily with his weapon. Surrounded on all sides by the warriors, the group made their way deeper into what became temple ruins. Staircases and columns were cracked and faded into the swamps, parts broken off and submerged, eroded by years of weather and neglect. They came to a central area with a grand staircase that ended in a large pool of water. Sunlight filtered in, casting shafts of light across the glen. There, many Gungans were gathered—a few hundred at first glance—and more could be seen peeking out from behind hiding places. Stone heads with unseeing eyes unnervingly seemed to watch them all.

Atop one of the stone heads, a large Gungan so weighty he didn't look like any of the others scowled down. He wore fancy robes and his ears were tied back. _He must be their leader,_ Sabé thought. He did _not_ look friendly at all.

"Hello dere, dee big Boss Nass," Jar Jar greeted timidly.

"Jar Jar," Nass growled slowly in vehement displeasure, looking scornfully down at them. "Yousa payen dis time. Who's da uss-en others?"

Jar Jar looked at Sabé with skittish eyes. So, now was the time. With no other choice, Sabé stepped forward, feeling as small as a leaf under the ire of Boss Nass. Behind her, she felt the Jedi move forward slightly in a protective way. She was given bravery by that, the queen at her side—the thought of seeing Zana again, the thought of liberating Naboo. "I am Queen Amidala of the Naboo," she said, following Padmé's instructions that had been given during the voyage here. "I come before you in peace."

Nass's nostrils flared. "Naboo biggen. Yousa bringen da Mackineeks... deya busten uss-en omm. Yousa all bombad." He jeeringly grinned as Sabé tried to piece together what he was saying. He blamed them, she gathered. "Yousa all _die'n_ , mesa tink."

 _Great, threats in response to the first thing I say._ Sabé stuck with her script, but prepared herself to reach for her blaster if this didn't work. "We wish to form an alliance w—"

From beside her, Padmé suddenly moved forward with a quick and decisive step, standing in front of Sabé and interrupting in a clear, firm, confident voice. "Your Honor." Sabé watched with veiled bewilderment. Apparently, they were going to improvise.

Artoo gave a soft whistling sound, as if to say " _uh oh._ "

Boss Nass frowned hard at Padmé. "Whosa dis…?" he asked suspiciously.

" _I_ am Queen Amidala," Padmé said, then turned to acknowledge Sabé. "This is my decoy… my protection… my loyal bodyguard."

There was a murmur throughout all gathered, and Sabé knew she shouldn't, but she felt mildly stung, as if she had let her queen down or was somehow to blame for a failed plan. Nearby, Anakin gaped and Jar Jar stared. Obi-Wan had a small, knowing smile on his face even as Qui-Gon's quiet surprise showed. Panaka, naturally, was disgruntled.

* * *

Padmé's play worked. Boss Nass seemed pleased and impressed by her revealing herself to him. She then used humility to beg for help. Amazingly, the Boss made a total turnaround in his stance. Then and there, the two leaders shook hands and pledged to work together to liberate Naboo as a united front. The group of them moved out toward the edge of the woods not far from there and Panaka managed to make contact with Dakana on an old frequency. The lieutenant had hijacked speeders from an abandoned farm not far from the landing site, made it to the city, and was already en route with some officers with even more shortly to come. There remained no word on Gregar or the other handmaidens or Zana.

The first of the speeders arrived, and while Panaka went to debrief, Padmé called Sabé over, surprising her when she asked for council regarding a plan of action for taking back Theed. When Sabé asked why her of all the other officers present, Padmé smiled almost playfully and answered, "Among other things, because Eirtaé is always complaining about all the war theory you spend your time studying." She grew more serious then. "That, and you have my highest trust when it comes to a plan with the least harm incurred to us. I mean it when I say that you are one of Naboo's most valuable assets."

Any sense of shame Sabé had held previously vanished to be replaced by a touched, honored feeling. And together, the queen and her decoy began to plan a course of action to free their people and planet.

* * *

**About An Hour Later**

Padmé and Sabé stood together with Artoo at a speeder parked just under where the canopy of trees gave way to verdant rolling hills of green set against vivid blue sky. A few stone heads were sunk into the nearest hills, leftovers from the ruins that extended into the wooded swampy area nearby. More speeders were arriving, adding to Dakana's first wave of ragtag troops. Sabé studied the newcomers anxiously and briefly. No Gregar. No Zana. No Yané or Saché or Officer Ludo.

Panaka and Dakana spoke briefly the the speeders with the new arrivals then approached the queen and her decoy. The Jedi, seeming to sense a key moment, also approached and stood across the hood of the speeder, opposite of the ladies. They both had their hands folded inside their oversized cloak sleeves, giving them the appearance of unity and wisdom. Boss Nass also joined them. He breathed very loudly and wetly, which Sabé had not noticed before.

"What is the situation?" Padmé asked as the captain and lieutenant approached.

"Almost everyone's in camps," Panaka relayed grimly. "According to Lieutenant Dakana, a few hundred officers and guards have formed an underground movement."

Dakana gave a serious nod. "I rallied as many of them here as I could without alerting them to our presence," he said. "I don't know an exact number of allies, and the communication breakdown is proving difficult to handle."

"Any word from Gregar?" Sabé asked, trying to hide the anxiety in her voice.

Dakana looked to the captain, who looked from him to Sabé in such a way that she almost briefly wondered if he were lying. "No." He seemed weary and pessimistic. She analyzed him closely… Gregar was his nephew, she would be able to see if he knew something about his fate, wouldn't she?

Dakana seemed similarly bleak. "The Federation Army's much larger than we thought, and much stronger." Boss Nass made a deeply guttural sound of disproval, drawing everyone's brief glance.

Panaka gave Padmé a long, significant look. "Your Highness… this is a battle I do not think we can win."

Padmé remained stoic, and turned to Sabé. "Lieutenant," she prompted. Sabé did not miss the way Obi-Wan reacted to hearing her rank. Faint surprise, and something like approval. A sense of pride swelled in Sabé's chest. _Papa, if you could see me now. I know you'd be proud._

"The battle is a diversion," she said, addressing and looking at everyone in turn. "If we can draw the majority of the droid army away from the cities using the Gungan warriors, we'll have less difficulty entering the city safely." She looked to the droid nearby. "Artoo." He beeped and called up the display map of the city they'd loaded to his unit as well as the live action outline of their proposed entry. "We'll use the secret passages on the waterfall side," she said, indicating them on the hazy pale blue projection. "Once we're topside, we'll stage an explosion and use that cover to enter the hangar and, by proxy, the palace. Once inside the palace, the queen and I will divide into two groups. We'll each take a different route to the throne room. We may need another diversion, or a counterattack, so having two groups each with a passing queen will work to our advantage." A readout of the palace floorplan projected now, with several possible routes to the throne room outlined. "Once inside the throne room, we'll capture the Viceroy, taking him prisoner and disabling him from command. An army without its leader easily overthrown."

Padmé nodded, taking over from her decoy. "We have also divised a plan which should immobilize the droid army. Once we're in the city and have access to the main hangar, we'll send what pilots we have to knock out the droid control ship orbiting the planet. If we can get past their rayshields, we can sever communication and their droids should all shut down on the spot." The two women looked around at the group of listeners, who all seemed to be approving of the plan. Padmé looked at the Gungan leader earnestly. "Do you agree to your part of the plan, Boss Nass? There is a possibility with this diversion many Gungans will be killed, especially so if we fail to disable the command ship."

Boss Nass gave his chest a macho thump. "Wesa ready to do aresen part."

"A well-conceived plan," Qui-Gon agreed. "I do fear that the weapons on your fighters may not penetrate the shields on the control ship."

"And there's an even bigger danger," Obi-Wan added. "If the Viceroy escapes, he will return with another droid army."

Padmé was unflinching. "That is why we must not fail to get to the Viceroy," she said firmly. "Everything depends on it."

"We will _not_ fail," Sabé added. It simply was not an option.

The group was thoughtfully quiet for a couple of seconds. "So be it," said Qui-Gon. "We will protect you as best we can." He indicated Padmé and Sabé. "Once you two divide up, one of us will accompany each group for protection." Obi-Wan's gaze was on Sabé when his master said that.

"I'll assign groups shortly, Your Highness," Panaka said. "Then we can do a group brief." He briefly glanced around the group gravely. "In the meantime, say prayers to whatever gods you serve."

"So we plead," Danaka said, and gave a firm, militaristic nod and turn, dismissing himself from the group. Everyone else went their separate ways shortly after that for the time being.

* * *

Sabé sat alone on cracked-in-half stone head further back in the ruins, away from the noise and distraction of everyone else. The air was misty and cool, the ambience of the swampy marshes serene and calming. Overhead, vines gracefully trailed down like sashes. A huge central column was behind the destroyed stone she sat on, and to her left a moss-eaten staircase marched up an incline toward brighter light where the fields began and everyone was gathered. To her right, more dark and wooded swamp spread out, a patchwork of crumbled stones and fallen archways. Mist laid low over the water in parts. She could see why the Gungans viewed this place as sacred.

She was thinking the plan over and over again, trying to see if there were any adjustments or considerations they should make. It was as nonviolent of an approach as possible, as far as war went anyway. That was what she and Padmé agreed was best. Captain Panaka would call the entire group in for a briefing soon, then they would leave for Naboo while the Gungans advanced toward the city from the east to play their part. Sabé felt dignity and pride at Padmé's request to be the asked to help design the battle. It felt right to be in a position of action like that, and strategy came easily to Sabé. She briefly wondered if her future would involve some sort of job that more heavily utilized this skill. She idly thought it would suit her.

A little noise nearby drew her attention—it was Obi-Wan, alone, emerging from further back in the ruins to her right. He paused for a beat when he saw her, and their faces both mirrored faint surprise to see each other. He then continued his approach and gave her a nod when he was only a few steps away. "Lieutenant," he greeted, using his mildly playful tone.

He was difficult to read, and she got the distinct feeling he liked it that way. "Why are you lurking about like that?" she asked, the first thing that came to mind.

He smiled conspiratorially a little at that. "Seeking some solace before what's to come," he answered. "Same as you, I think."

He was right. But as much as she craved solace, her curiosity got the better of her. "Join me then," she said, careful to sound casual. Panaka's words ran through her mind again but she refused to give them credibility. There was nothing inappropriate about their interactions and nothing to hide.

He joined her as requested, sitting a respectful distance of about two feet from her. "That's quite the battle plan you devised," he said, eyeing her sidelong. "How is it that two pacifists came up with such a strategic, informed approach?"

Sabé had to smile at that, mostly because she understood that this was where part of their advantage laid. Many thought that all pacifists would run from conflict and would function poorly during a fight. She, on the other hand, believed in dismantling opposition with wit, skill, and brevity—as peacefully as possible. "Not all of us are the same sort of pacifist, Obi-Wan."

The informal use of his name came easily, and she couldn't tell if he had a reaction to it. She hadn't even truly intended to say it, it just slipped out. His studious eyes unnerved her. "I'm assuming you've been in the forces for some time to have earned the rank of Lieutenant," he prodded, asking her without asking her for more information about herself.

"Six years," she replied, looking off into the stone head that was across the stairs from them, "Six years putting up with Panaka's…" she caught herself and reeled her informality back in. Maybe Panaka had a point about her unprofessionalism. "He can be quite the challenge sometimes. I'm sure he'd say the same about me too."

Obi-Wan smirked lightly. "I don't think he likes me talking to you."

Her pulse leapt unpleasantly at that observation, but Sabé pushed past it, discounting the reaction as her own neurosis. "He doesn't like anything," she joked in diversion, "don't take it personally."

Obi-Wan seemed to understand, and they caught each other's glance at that moment, both of them smiling faintly. The smiles faded as their eyes held. _Too interested_ , Sabé thought weakly. Perhaps _she_ was the one too interested. "You'll be a primary target during this attack," Obi-Wan said softly then. "If not _the_ primary target."

A brief silence hung as their eyes did not break gaze. "I'm aware," Sabé said, then finally looked away. "And I'm not afraid." But she _was_ wondering what was wrong with her to be unexpectedly so distracted and fascinated with this man during such a dire time. A time when her planet's fate hung in the balance and sister's life was at risk. If Zana was even alive at all…

"No, you're not afraid," that softly accented voice said. "But… you're worried about someone."

Those words made her gaze snap back to his almost accusingly. "How do you know that?"

He looked empathetic, studying her eyes deeply. "I cannot read minds, Milady, but I can sense feelings."

A shiver that wasn't from being cold ran through her body. How strange that he could be so attuned to someone else's thoughts. She thought perhaps she should guard herself more carefully. "My sister," she said. She hadn't spoken of Zana aloud since they left Theed. No one had asked, no one had offered concern. Everyone was too wrapped up in their own problems. "I left her here alone." Her voice caught, faltering on a guilty lump in her throat. "She's only eleven."

"She's… not with family?"

A pained smile from Sabé as she looked off unseeingly. If only. "We have no family left." That was the simplest way to sum up all of the pain, loss, tragedy, and grief of her most inner world.

Obi-Wan was silent a moment. He seemed to understand the gravity of his findings and her admissions. "Qui-Gon and I will do everything we can to protect you," he finally said, and there was a gentle assurance to his voice that drew her more pained gaze to his. "All of you. And help find your sister too."

That last part shellshocked her. In response, some place in her was stirred and touched in a way it never had been before. His words had deep, resounding impact on her, so deep she had to take a moment to make sure she could keep her outward self together. She was glad for the mask of face makeup in that moment. "Thank you," she finally settled on with a faint voice, again drawn to this person in a way she couldn't entirely comprehend. Almost in a way that was beginning to frighten her. _Who are you?_ her spirit asked, interested to see more of who exactly this Obi-Wan Kenobi was. She blinked rapidly, forcing a smile and mild laugh to hide the emotions she was struggling with. She did not like to be seen in more vulnerable light. "I suppose it's rude at this point to not introduce myself," she said, forcing herself away from deeper emotions and she put her hand out for a handshake. "My name is Sabé."

He nodded pleasantly, taking her hand and shaking it. "A pleasure to meet you, Sabé." His hand was warm, strong, a little rough. But just like before when he'd touched her face, she felt something come to life in the center of her chest: a lightness, a warmth. Deep intensity of peace and strength. Her eyebrows moved together ever so slightly. Did he feel that too?

"You as well, Obi-Wan," she said, then withdrew her hand from his, mystified. His brilliant blue gaze was impossible for her to get a read on, as far as if he felt what she did. It didn't matter—more urgent things were at hand. Either way, she recognized her growing respect for him. He was, and she was sure of it now, a good man. "It will be an honor to fight at your side," she told him honestly.

He gave her a little look that implied he could be joking around. "I've seen your aim, Milady," he returned, both with good humor and earnestness. "The honor will be all mine."

It was hard not to smile back—she lost the effort, and felt reduced to a bashful and self-conscious heap of feelings.

From somewhere up above where the fields were, a sudden booming call of, " _Everyone circle up!_ " came.

"Ah, that would be our cue I suppose," Obi-Wan said, leisurely standing up and offering his hand to Sabé, who pointedly looked at it and then him while standing up without the help. She left him with a little challenging expression. Perhaps she was too interested and that was clouding her vision, but she was about to lead a battle charge. She didn't need help to stand, even if the chance to touch his hand again had been quite the temptation.

Already a few stairs up, she looked back at where he watched after her with a strange little expression. Entertained? Amused? She couldn't tell. "Are you coming or not?" she asked almost teasingly. He relented and followed after her.

The two of them got quite the look from Captain Panaka when they came out of the ruins together.


	7. Battle for Naboo

For nearly six years of Sabé's life, the palace had been a familiar and safe space. The entirety of the structure was all imprinted in her mind in mental blueprints: the more prominent features such as the banquet and ceremonial halls, the throne room, the prayer and sacrament rotunda, the grand royal quarters, the mezzanine sunroom, the indoor garden sanctuary. As well as the more humble features necessary for operation: the kitchens, the laundry and tech stations, the staff and servant's wings. So many memories were here from her days at the guard. More than knowing the way the palace was laid out, a familiar feeling of home and safety came with these marble floors, gilded columns, and generously sized pristine duraglass windows that let in the beautiful light of a Naboo afternoon.

But today, the palace felt like a snaring trap, and no feeling of safety existed. Only danger of the most lethal kind.

Sabé could hear her heart pounding in her ears oddly against the scream of laserfire currently being traded in the lower grand hallway. From behind cover of a massive pillar, several of which lined either side of the hallway, she returned fire with her S-5 blaster pistol, a rain of green laserbolts screaming out toward droid after droid that stood between her group and the mission at hand—getting to the grand staircase behind all the droids blocking their way. Beside her, Eirtaé and another officer did the same, knelt and crouched and using the column's base as cover as they fired on the enemy. _Just—a few—more!_ Just then a red bolt nicked the side of Sabé's headdress, making her head jerk a bit, and she breathlessly pressed herself back against the cool marble, shielding herself from the relentless laserfire for a brief moment as she panted heavy breaths.

The original plan had been to create a diversion in the hangar bay plaza, storm the hangar bay, get pilots to their fighters, put Anakin somewhere safe to wait, and then go to the palace through an adjacent passage. They'd accomplished all but the last part: coming face-to-face with the dark warrior from Tatooine when they attempted to enter the palace. The second the doors parted to reveal the waiting enemy blocking their way, the Jedi had stepped forward protectively, igniting their sabers—and Padmé had moved her group out to another way with haste. After they fought their way out of the far side of the hangar bay and made to use a service entrance as their exit, Sabé had looked back at the three warriors locked in combat, almost unable to tear herself away. Their flashing sabers, blue and green on red, stuck in her mind. Would the Jedi be able to defeat their insidious opponent?

Sabé came back to the present moment as glass crunched beneath her boots from where Panaka had shot out the adjacent window. Just a moment ago, Blue Group, headed by the captain and Padmé, had used ascension guns to skip this tedious and dangerous task of clearing the way. They would be upstairs already. Gritting her teeth, Sabé returned to her post and made another headshot on an advancing droid. A couple other droids further down took fire and crashed to the ground thanks to the group of officers and Rabé across the hall opposite of them. And then just like that, ceasefire began. Quiet returned. No more sounds of droids advancing, only birds singing somewhere outside through the broken window. Sabé looked across the hall at where Dakana and five other men held their cover. A couple more had made it to a column a little further in toward the staircase. "Is that all of them?" Dakana shouted.

"Think so!" Came a call from another officer ahead.

Rabé, crouched beside Dakana, gave a nod that she saw an all-clear. Sabé cautiously stepped back into the hallway, saw the way was indeed, clear and led the charge with a hand motion of urgency to everyone under her command. The entire group stayed close and ran, knowing every second was necessary.

They sprinted up the grand staircase ahead then took a hard turn to run up another marble flight to the smaller corridor that would take them to the grand hallway, at the end of which was the throne room entrance.

But they were thwarted. The group stopped and ran for cover on opposite sides of that hallway when they saw two destroyer droids perched and waiting there.

Even as the droidekas opened fire from behind their impenetrable shields, Sabé threw herself behind a column, narrowly missing being shot. Beside her, Eirtaé was panting hard. "You okay?" Sabé whispered hard, and the blonde nodded, clutching her weapon harder. She looked shaken up. Rabé gave Sabé a dire look—they were both very scared, and rightly so. Sabé felt it too, but more than afraid, she was determined. There was _no_ option except emancipation. Sabé could hear the march of more battle droids below. They were coming up the stairs they'd just ascended—a clever trap to press them in from both sides. The battle droids were moving slowly, but they'd be here within half a minute at the least. The destroyers were still unleashing pelting laserfire that made thinking difficult and moving forward impossible. Their shield generators would absorb most laserfire and tangible weapons attacks too. Sabé's mind raced with possibilities, all which weren't possible in this exact predicament.

"We can't get past those things without heavy artillery!" Dakana shouted, saying exactly what Sabé had been thinking.

"Which we don't have!" Rabé shouted back.

Sabé's eyes left the enemy and flickered over the massive nearby stone statue of the goddess Yilna the Peaceful that stood to the side of where the droids had stationed themselves. The statue stood in a thoughtful pose with a hand resting to the side of her face. Her flowing dress hitting just above solid stone ankles… _ankles that could break_. In a flash, she knew what to do. "Follow my fire!" Sabé shouted, turning her crosshairs to the ankle closest to her. Everyone who had vantage did as commanded, firing onto the weak point together. The ankle snapped and rubble exploded as the goddess leaned and then crashed straight down onto the destroyers, crushing them like bugs. The air went quiet again.

Sabé looked between Dakana and Rabé breathlessly, a brief rebel smile popping onto her face. "You were saying?"

"Lucky break," Dakana muttered.

Sabé was already on the move, motioning to three officers in the back—"you three, cover our retreat!"—then signaling the rest to follow her. They ran down the corridor and turned a sharp left into the grand hallway, which was completely empty. They sprinted down the length, seeing Padmé and her group weaponless and surrounded by droids in the throne room. The Viceroy and Rune Haako had them. But not for long.

Even as they ran, Sabé gave a loud, commanding shout that dared all in ear range not to turn their attention to her. " _Viceroy_!" All heads turned, and droids swiveled too as she came into range. Her blaster was already raising. "Your occupation here has ended!" She declared, and with two precise headshots at two of the droids closest, Sabé turned and ran to her right with her group close behind.

"After her!" The Viceroy could be heard shouting. "This one's a decoy!"

"Cover and fire!" Sabé shouted to the group as the telltale clicking sound of droid footsteps sounded behind them. The group split into two and took cover behind two opposite columns. The sound of laserfire from the throne room, recognizable D-6 blasts, let them all know that Padmé had successfully gotten the hidden blasters out of the throne's secret compartment. Sabé's group shot down the droids that pursued them easily, and even as the last one fell to the ground, the throne room door could be heard closing and sealing. Quiet again returned to the palace and everyone remained in defensive positions, watchful for more enemies. But none came. Daring to hope, Sabé straightened up and others began to do the same. Now they just had to trust that the fighters would get to the droid control ship in time and be able to destroy it.

"All right, I want groups of three to sweep this level for more battle droids. Once we clear the upper level, we'll move downward." No sooner had the words left her mouth than Sabé felt as if her entire sensory system was lit on fire, and a single word— _NO!—_ screamed through her mind, leaving a shocked feeling inside. She looked around in a dumbfounded, adrenaline-drunk panic. What was that? The officers and two other handmaidens were grouping up, unaware of Sabé's sudden fallen face. It was if she was suddenly drowning, and despair and pain ricocheted, her chest ached—in a dreamlike state she drifted to the window to look out, where she saw the plaza they'd just sieged laid out below. Beyond it, her gaze and feelings were drawn to the hangar facility. Her senses struggled to understand. Searching, she happened to look down at the street below, and her heart lurched and leapt sickeningly—a girl with two buns perched atop her head like little ears ran from a fleet of marching droids. And that girl looked like _Zana._ Her blood surged and without a coherent thought, only instincts, Sabé flipped her blaster in her hand and smashed the hilt into the duraglass panel, sending glass falling like rain even as she clumsily climbed the sill and stood on the precarious ledge outside the building.

" _Zana_!" she screamed, but she no longer saw anyone… just the squadron of droids. She was too high to jump down safely, but… her eyes darted around then found a nearby ledge that would work and she fired her ascension cable into it—not the exact intended usage, but it would have to do. The moment the anchor took hold, she jumped, not downward but in a sideways arc that would make for a less high-velocity fall. She activated the extension switch as she jumped, coaxing as much length out as possible. Swinging down nearly two stories, the length of it wasn't quite long enough to take her to the street, and the harsh jerk of tension when the length maxed out caused her to lose grip. Her weapon uselessly bounced back out of her hands and Sabé fell the extra eight or so feet with awkward grace, landing in a protective roll and springing to her feet right in front of a battle droid. If a droid could be surprised, that one thankfully was—and thanks to its slow response time, Sabé yanked its gun from the spindly fingers holding it and ran sideways, dodging the laserfire that began while returning with her own—crashing behind the cover of an abandoned speeder parked in front of a little home nearby. It was there that she realized she wasn't alone. A group of perhaps fifteen children stared back at her with wide, fearful eyes—varying in ages from very young to young teens. They looked as shocked to see her as she was to see them. No familiar faces greeted her. Laserfire continued to pummel the speeder and scream off the cobblestone just a few paces from where Sabé crouched.

"Queen Amidala…!" one of the little boys said, his voice filled with hope and awe.

Sabé looked around quickly, assessing the situation in a moment of sheer panic. It was no longer just her, but all these other little lives. They were in a corner of the plaza with no escape. There was a walled staircase beside them that was too high to jump to from here. The other escape option was out in the open. She had to act quickly. Formulating a plan the only way she knew, Sabé gave the frightened children the best encouraging smile she knew how. "Hang tight kids," she said, "and whatever you do, _stay down_!" She sprung up to a protected crouched position with the gun and her eyes the only things above the hood of the speeder. There she unleashed a blazing spray of laserfire onto the droids, cutting the advancing group down one by one with the faster report of the heavier artillery droid gun she'd stolen. But beyond the remaining droids, she saw a much worst threat. It was a tank that slowly approached—its cannon was rotated the wrong way but slowly cranking toward them, a death sentence if they didn't act. _Do something, now!_ Sabé, half crazed with adrenaline, stood and strode out from cover, firing the entire time and holding the larger droid's gun with both hands. Only a handful of droids were left, but if she didn't somehow disable that tank, they would all die in a single blast. It was then that she noticed the cover fire. Someone else was shooting the droids too—from the staircase she'd noticed. The last advancing droid took a laserbolt squarely to the chest and fell over, but not by her shot.

"Nebira!" came a familiar voice, and with a whip of her head, Sabé followed the voice to where Gregar—limping down the stairs with a bloody bandage tied across his head to cover one of his eyes—held a detonator ready to toss to her. Behind him, giving cover fire with another stolen battle droid gun, was Officer Ludo.

Sabé raised her hand automatically even as Gregar tossed the small, apple-sized weapon. The second she caught it, she took off at a mighty sprint, watching the barrel of the cannon slowly swivel toward the group of children as she willed herself to run faster than she ever had before—teeth gritted, feet flying, leg muscles screaming, hand clenching the detonator, she felt like she wouldn't make it—like she would be met with a lethal blast straight to the chest. Even as these half-formed thoughts raced through her brain, she pushed herself even faster and in the last stretch took a flying jump, simultaneously switching the detonator on—the rapid beeping indicator started—she had three seconds. She crashed into the tank a millisecond after pressing the switch, an arm around the weapon as she stared straight down the barrel with her heart in her throat. She slammed the detonator into the hole with everything she had, hearing the beeping rapidly increasing in pitch and speed even as she shoved off and jumped again, desperately clawing for escape from the coming blast, which went off just then, sending her flying further than a natural jump ever could. A sickening blast of heat and enormous pressure slammed into her, sending her barreling toward the ground as shrapnel screamed against her skin in several places she couldn't make sense of in that moment. She collided with the ground shoulder and headpiece first, aware of one thing: she was alive.

Pain shot through all her body in various ways: screaming aches, stings, pangs. She shakily pushed herself up, blinking against doubled vision, trying to locate Zana. Had she been hallucinating what she saw? She managed to stand up. Her headpiece and the attached wig had gone askew and Sabé ripped it off completely, wincing anew at the pain that the few remaining clips gave as she pulled it off. She threw it aside, leaving her natural hair that was gathered in a low bun.

"Sabé, thank the gods!" said Officer Ludo, who had jogged over to her. Her uniform was dingy and torn in places, she no longer wore a hat—but she was in one piece and stood proud and strong, unlike Gregar, who was a few steps behind, limping with a leg injury and eye injury. Sabé stumbled past Ludo, only one thing on her mind.

"Are you all right?" Gregar asked her, stopping her with two firm hands.

Sabé looked at him dangerously. Everything else had to wait. "Where's Zana? _Where is she_?" She asked, voice trembling. Gregar looked at her for two seconds that felt like an eternity, then toward the house the children were huddled outside of. Sabé didn't understand, and all she could feel was dread and a conviction that her sister was dead. And then her gaze lifted to the window where a few wide-eyed faces were now peeking. One of which was, indeed… _Zana!_

With a cry, Sabé raced toward the house even as Zana's head disappeared from the window—two seconds later, Zana ran out of the front door even as Sabé sobbingly caught her sister in the most intense embrace, falling to her knees to be the same height as her sibling. Who was hugging who tighter, it was hard to say. Sabé pulled back, examining her sister franticly and quickly. She saw no injuries, only dishevelment. "You're all right?" she asked urgently. Zana nodded, her eyes full of overwhelmed tears.

"Are _you_?" she asked.

Shaking and smiling with glinting eyes even despite the pain Sabé was overjoyed. The blast had left her with some injuries and a sooty layer, her makeup had smeared and her hair was wild. She was sure she looked awful, but she could only rejoice. "Yes, I am." She hugged Zana again and squeezed her hard, feeling her sister's heartbeat against hers. Her eyes closed tight, and gratitude brought her to her metaphorical knees as she cradled the back of Zana's head in a tender embrace. " _I am_."

In the sky above, a great and sudden explosion sounded and everyone looked up, tensing. The droid control ship. "They did it…" Sabé breathed. Even though she couldn't see any droids nearby, she heard the telltale sound of them falling down uselessly beyond their field of vision in the plaza beyond. Relief made her shoulders sag and tears spring to her eyes anew, and she gave a breathless little laughing sound. That meant they had won. Everything was going to be all right again.

Nearby, Yané and Saché came out of the house, no longer in gowns but in what looked like pilfered utility clothing. Guns were strapped to them, and they were holding and held by clinging children—all in school uniforms. Relieved, anxious smiles were tense on both their faces. Sabé smiled back, her eyebrows moved toward each other deeply in a fiercely emotional and relieved expression. Their relief mirrored her own. Sabé looked at Zana again and then realized her sister—her squeamish about weaponry and fighting sister—was wearing a stolen battle droid's gun slung across her back. Impressed surprise made Sabé's eyebrows raise slightly. "I left for a few days and you're a warrior now?" she asked softly.

Zana shrugged, seeming almost shy.

"You're not the only brilliant shot in your family, turns out," Gregar said with a grimacing smile. But he had other things on his mind. "Where's the queen? What's happening?"

Sabé stood up on weak legs, not sure where to even begin. "It's…" a sudden pang struck her like lightning, and she forgot everything, only felt called to look toward the hangar bay again. That same sensation she'd felt moments before was back, and even more intensely. Pain that swallowed whole, loss, a terrifying sensation. "Wait," she breathed, drifting a few steps forward as if that would help her see or understand better. She felt it in her bones then, crystal clear like the sound of a glass bell in her mind: _Obi-Wan_.

She'd forgotten for a few brief moments. About him. About Qui-Gon. Their sinister attacker. It was all coming back like a tidal wave, and a terrible feeling of dread came over her as she continued forward toward the hangar as if in a trance. She heard Gregar calling her name in confusion but she didn't stop. An undeniable pull carried her forward toward the still and empty hangar. And then Obi-Wan appeared, coming out of the hangar entrance without his robe, alone. Carrying someone.

 _Oh gods._ Understanding floored her. Sabé suddenly was running again as Obi-Wan stumbled a few more steps.

She got to him just as he began to go down, and she tried to brace him as his legs gave out—but he was too heavy and too determined to fall. He collapsed to a knee there at the plaza's edge, Qui-Gon's limp form lolling onto the ground. Sabé had gone to her knees at his side as Obi-Wan slumped over his master, crying into a hand pressed to his face. Only crying wasn't the right word. it was weeping—the type of grief that comes from the deepest and most painful place in the soul. "He's gone, _he's gone,_ " he said in a ragged and wretched whisper. Sabé pressed fingers to Qui-Gon's neck where a pulse would be. The skin was already cold and felt more dense than it should. Her fingers came away as her face creased in utter dismay. He was _dead_. How? Shocked and horrified, her heart felt like it burst as Obi-Wan's miserable sounds continued. Not knowing what else to do, Sabé grabbed him hard and held on tight and close—her makeup smearing into his face and hair. His grief was so tangible to her that she thought she might cry too. He grabbed back, sobbing, and when he did that she held on tighter, her one arm curved around his back and grabbing into the fabric at his shoulder, the other one going to the side of his face as if to steady him. His face hid in the curve of her neck, and his pain cried out of him brokenly.

Having approached slow and unsure, Gregar and Ludo, the handmaidens and all the children hung back about twenty paces. None of them even knew who Obi-Wan or Qui-Gon were. The handmaidens began to guide the children away from the site, while Gregar and Ludo remained watchful and vexed. Sabé barely noticed them. It was like Obi-Wan's emotions were hers, and they were suffocating, blinding, weighing more than the entire universe in that moment. It was the kind of pain she knew, that she would never want anyone else to ever feel. How could she protect him from this? She knew she couldn't. But the instinct was still there. She heard herself saying _shh, shh_. _It's all right. It's going to be all right._

Overhead, yellow star fighters soared, the familiar whine of their engines causing Sabé to look upward with hurting eyes. Behind the yellow streaks of the aircraft, the destroyed droid control ship was still breaking apart in pale blue grace.

Victory—but at such a cost. Warm tears fell out of her eyes, and all she could hear were the utterly wretched cries of the one she held in her arms. Her fingers tightened into him and she shut her eyes, wishing she believed in gods and whatever comfort and healing they could bring in a time such as this.


	8. Tribute

A lone Jedi sat in a spacious guest chamber of the Theed palace. Late afternoon sunlight poured in through a nearby window, glaring up off the gleaming marble floor.

Obi-Wan's eyes were open but he wasn't seeing the physical world. He closed his eyes, trying to escape. Instead, he remembered.

Ten years ago, Obi-Wan had been fifteen at the time: Impatient and stubborn, eager to please and insecure while still somehow being painfully egotistical and lofty. Essentially, a brat. In the middle of a mission as they made their way through thick jungle tangle, Qui-Gon had suddenly stopped and fixed his student with a soft, thoughtful look that came from nowhere. "Do you know why I chose you as my padawan learner, Obi-Wan?" he'd asked. At the time he'd kept his hair in a casual knot at the back of the top of his head, appearing quite different than he did in later years. "I chose you because of who you _are_."

Obi-Wan had been sweating from the humidity and itching from bug bites. Not exactly in the most receptive state of mind. Perhaps that's why Qui-Gon had chosen that moment. "And who am I?" he'd asked slowly, mildly suspicious.

Qui-Gon had smiled and chuckled in the deepest part of his throat, his eyes glittering fondly as he put a hand Obi-Wan's shoulder. "Why would you ask someone else who you are? Does your inner voice not tell you?" he'd asked in the most maddeningly mild tone. "Meet yourself. Do it curiously, compassionately. Don't attempt to put yourself into a parameter of someone else's wish for who you ought to be. You are whole just as you are. The question is, can you give yourself the bravery it takes to break away from the safety of the commonly tread path?" Obi-Wan was disgruntled at what he immediately judged to be more of his master's nonsensical ramblings. Qui-Gon was forever the picture of assured serenity as he concluded his thoughts. "Trust the Force to show you who you are, my very young apprentice. I cannot do that for you." Without anything further, Qui-Gon had then returned to leading them through the jungle.

Obi-Wan had stared off after his master with a somewhat insolent look on his face. He hadn't possessed a clue about what Qui-Gon meant by that at the time and was as usual stumped by his master's teachings that seemed so emotionally rooted and whimsical. Complaining internally, Obi-Wan had followed his master, wishing for a teacher who wasn't so radically incomprehensible.

That was what felt like a lifetime ago.

With the dull thump of his hurting heart filling his ears, Obi-Wan opened his eyes. To the world that Qui-Gon no longer walked in. His mind begged for understanding of what had happened today. It was seared into his mind, unchangeable and permanent. The adversary's confrontation, the fight through the power generator plant, the laser-curtain hallway he hadn't been fast enough to run down. The helplessness of watching Qui-Gon tire as he fought alone. The stench of the dark side punching through the air with finality as the fatal blow was dealt. The Force had descended on Obi-Wan like never before after that moment, screaming through his veins with fury and unquenchable fire, directing his limbs in a song of vengeance that ended with the Sith falling to his death down a power core shaft.

Obi-Wan had run to Qui-Gon's fallen form the second he obtained victory, hoping against hope that somehow his master could be saved. But even as Obi-Wan fell to his knees at his master's side and gathered him into his arms, he knew his hope was wasted. _"It's too late…"_ Qui-Gon managed just barely, his voice a weak shadow of what it once was. Set in a paled face, the formerly virile master's eyes had been pained as he struggle to take shallow breaths. Blood stained the front of his tunic.

" _No!"_ Obi-Wan begged, shaking his head rapidly in denial. A feeble protest against the laws of nature and the will of the Force.

Qui-Gon's steadfast tranquility was gone, his face showing only agony as he fought to stay alive a few precious more seconds. _"Obi-Wan, promise me you'll train the boy…"_

Obi-Wan immediately nodded agreement through the tears that came. Anything Qui-Gon asked was his. _"Yes, Master."_

A gentle touch came from the master's trembling fingers to his apprentice's face, a touch Obi-Wan would never forget. _"He, is the chosen one. He… will bring balance,"_ Qui-Gon wheezed, eyes widening and blinking oddly. _"Train him."_

And then the great master Qui-Gon Jinn's eyes went blank and fell closed. His body gave out, going limp as he died in Obi-Wan's arms.

Shocked, Obi-Wan had clutched Qui-Gon close in that moment, crushed to pieces by the horrific finality. Gone. _Forever_. Just like that. It had been surreal in the absolute worse of ways. Obi-Wan had screamed again then, up to nothing and no one, his feelings exploding out of him like an atomic blast as pain and resistance ricocheted like a thousand blades inside. Obi-Wan didn't even remember picking his master up or how he got from the power core to the outside world. All he remembered was defeated failure clawing him apart both then and now. His tears were so many that they had run down his face and neck, soaking into the collar of his tunic.

He remembered bringing Qui-Gon out into the sunlight outside the hangar bay then being able to go no further. Sabé was there somehow. He didn't remember seeing her as much as he remembered feeling her. She had been beside him, holding onto him as he held on back, blind to everything in that moment, just needing a rock to cling onto in the raging storm of anguish. He thought he remembered hearing her say things to him, but couldn't remember what things they were. He had never known such a feeling of helpless grief and infinite loss. Qui-Gon was no longer here: a fact he understood, but could not comprehend. Anakin and some pilots had come out of the hangar not long after. Anakin wasn't supposed to see what he had. The boy's screams and cries echoed in Obi-Wan's mind, another horrific memory adding to an entire symphony of suffering. Weakened from his weeping, Obi-Wan remembered going quiet and hollow. Sabé still there with him. An officer had ordered Qui-Gon's body be taken somewhere for autopsy and funeral preparation, and Obi-Wan had watched him taken in a daze. Padmé had appeared and whisked Anakin away, then someone he didn't know had brought Obi-Wan here to be alone. Everything else was a jumbled blur.

The code ran through his mind: _A Jedi Shall Not Know Anger, Nor Hatred, Nor Love._

And yet Obi-Wan had felt those very things in triplicate today. Anger at himself upon slowing down and getting separated from his master. Hatred for the Sith who had so mercilessly killed him. Love for the man who was the closest thing Obi-Wan would ever have to a father. His eyes ached anew, threatening more tears. Qui-Gon would forever remain a man and master who Obi-Wan had come to hold in the highest of respect—even if he didn't understand the way Qui-Gon thought and operated completely, the master had taught Obi-Wan many things: how to be less methodical and more intuitive, more in the moment, more at peace with chaos. Today, Obi-Wan had become his master's legacy. He would be the one to carry these messages onward. But how could he pass these things onto Anakin when Obi-Wan still felt like a learner himself?

Another thought was bothering the back of his mind: The Council might still stand against the idea of Anakin being trained. To deliver on his promise to Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan might have to go against them entirely. A daunting, stomach-turning thought. _Don't fret over the things outside of the current moment, Obi-Wan._ A lesson Qui-Gon had given many, many times over the years.

Heeding the advice, Obi-Wan committed to himself that he would set aside these worries until the situation was in front of him. But he still wondered: Who _was_ Anakin? Obi-Wan hardly knew the boy, and didn't know if Anakin would even desire to be trained by him. They had barely interacted to this point, mostly due to Obi-Wan's selfish jealousy of being overlooked for a more exciting pupil. A feeling that Obi-Wan now cursed himself for entertaining. _I still have much to learn._

It would never be the Jedi way to become controlled by feelings. But feelings came and went for him just as they did for anyone else.

_Emotion, yet peace.  
Ignorance, yet knowledge.  
_ _Passion, yet serenity.  
_ _Chaos, yet harmony.  
_ _Death, yet the Force._

He repeated the Jedi mantra over and over, wishing it gave him the assurance he so desperately needed. But it only felt like useless words that bore no relevance when it came to what had happened here today.

The question he felt most deeply and wrestled with the hardest: _why?_

Why would the Sith return this way, announcing their presence by killing a non-council member Jedi during a trade dispute conflict? Why Qui-Gon? Why Naboo? Why now? Did it really have something to do with Anakin? His master had insisted he was the chosen one, the one prophecies declared would bring balance to the Force. Obi-Wan had to admit there was something bigger happening here. He had known it the entire time. So had Qui-Gon.

A chime sounded and Obi-Wan slowly looked toward the doorway. He didn't want to see anyone. And moreover, who could it possibly be? Anakin maybe? Then as his senses adjusted he tentatively reached out in the Force. He recognized the presence. Her. He stood and went to the doorway, hitting the entry command for the door to slide up.

Sabé still wore the same battle outfit, but her face had been washed of the paint—she still had the little slash across her cheek from Tatooine, plus freckles from the sun—he saw rips and soot all over her outfit, and her headpiece was gone… the mark of the valiant battle she'd obviously fought. Draped in her arms, two brown garments—one warmer in tone, one darker and cooler in tone. A pang hit his chest when he recognized them.

The handmaiden's expression conveyed hesitance and empathy. Her voice was careful and soft. "We found these."

Their robes that had been discarded in the hangar when the fight with the Sith warrior first began. The finality of it all bore heavily on Obi-Wan, and he reached for them, his voice cracking softly with deep sadness. "Thank you." He slowly took them, then brushed fingers against Qui-Gon's robe with a reverent measure of feeling that overwhelmed him. His face struggled not to crumple, and more tears sprung up, sending shooting pains that made his eyes ache. He bowed his head and pinched the bridge of his nose hard, fighting to remain composed. He breathed unsteadily for a moment, then felt her hand come to touch his upper arm: a steadying, empathetic grasp that didn't judge him. Slowly, his breathing calmed as he reached to the Force for sanity and whatever peace he could find. When he was recomposed as best as he could be and looked up again, Sabé's hand moved away but her understanding, pained eyes remained.

"Anakin's being looked after. Padmé's made arrangements for him to sleep with some of the refugee children in one of the ceremonial halls tonight. Take all the time you need for yourself."

Relief flooded him that he hadn't known he needed. "Thank you," he said again, repeating himself while wishing he could summon more of himself. Grief had made him feel so tired, so lethargic.

Sabé's body language was halfway between staying and going as she hovered in the doorway. "Queen Amidala's scheduled the funeral for tomorrow evening," she said, and Obi-Wan felt himself react to the word 'funeral' even though she'd delivered the news in the most gentle of ways. "Is that enough time?"

He supposed it only right that the funeral be held here, the place where Qui-Gon's path had ended. It was still so new—the idea of his master being gone—that Obi-Wan could barely grasp it. "Yes, I—I think so." Thinking out loud in a somber, dazed tone, he realized he had to do something very important: "I'll notify the Council."

Sabé nodded, taking a moment to watch him with worried eyes. "All right. Signal my comm if you need anything. Anything at all." And without requiring him to say anything else, she gave a little hopeful, sad smile and left.

Obi-Wan stood there and watched her leave uselessly for what felt like an eternity.

Funeral. The Council. Return of the Sith. Anakin. It was so much.

After sealing the door, retreating into the room and laying their robes down beside each other on the bed there, Obi-Wan studied the garments for a long moment. He heavily made to pull his comm off his belt, intending to hail the Jedi Temple and tell them. Then he paused, deciding first to meditate and center himself, seek peace for himself. It's what Qui-Gon would have done.

* * *

The royal palace was unusually active in the aftermath of the battle earlier that day. Refugees from the camps were beginning to pour into the city. Some returning to their homes, some displaced and in need of shelter until transportation was up and running again. Temporary information and assistance points had been set up within the main hall of the palace. Nute Gunray and his allies had all been captured and put into a holding cell until further notice. The Gungans who had achieved victory out in the hill land returned to the city and were helping Nubians efforts wherever needed. A small first-aid station had also been set up, and many of the guest and servant's quarters were being used by those who needed rest or who had injuries. Padmé had just finished making a planet-wide broadcast informing her people of what had happened and what was next.

Sabé had been at Panaka and Padmé's command for the past few hours doing anything and everything asked of her—sweeping the plaza and hangar with a team for any remaining threats, conducting a search of the palace grounds for any lurking Nemodians. They had found two, and put them into custody with the rest. Zana and the schoolchildren were taken to the palace gardens to play and occupy themselves while they were looked over by Yané, Saché, and Ludo. Gregar was seen by a medic droid for the eye injury and leg injury he'd sustained, which would have to do until a human medic could be found. Obi-Wan remained unseen, remaining in the chambers he'd been temporarily given. Sabé looked in that direction often, worrying.

It was nearing sunset, and the flurry of activity wasn't really lessening. Sabé currently stood back and watched the schoolchildren playing with R2-D2 in the grand hall where they'd just had a very cobbled together dinner. Anakin had been very upset for awhile and sitting glumly to himself. Zana had seen him on the sidelines and sat with him awhile, talking and attempting to make friends. He'd finally been coaxed to join the other children, and was now showing them all different functions and commands Artoo could do. Jar Jar loped over to join, which caused a mixture of amazed laughter and terrified shrieks—most Nubian children had never seen a Gungan in the flesh before today.

Padmé came to stand beside Sabé, her gaze also on the young ones. "Look at them," she said, her eyes on Zana and Anakin in particular. "Children who had a hand in saving an entire planet. You'd never know what they've been through to look at them right now. Did Ludo tell you how Zana protected them all?" Sabé's face bore a proud, emotional smile and she nodded. Ludo had indeed. Zana had apparently shot and/or disabled ten battledroids over the past few days and even lured a droideka over the edge of a waterfall. "I think the protector gene runs strong in the Nebira family," Padmé said. The queen turned to Sabé and gave her a thorough look. "How are you, my friend?"

Sabé thought for a second, not even sure. Hungry, tired, physically exhausted, with some minor injuries that needed to be looked at. "Overwhelmed but grateful," she said.

There was an understanding nod from the queen. "I am too. There's so much to be done." Padmé sounded weary but hopeful. The same as Sabé felt. "Our strategy worked. Captain Panaka says he thinks casualties are less than fifty planet-wide, humans and Gungans alike. It's a miracle."

A sardonic little smile and look from Sabé. "Miracle or flawlessly conceived strategy… either one, I'm thankful."

Padmé smiled and chuckled, then turned to face Sabé full on, seeming to get a little more serious. "I've been thinking, friend. And I know you haven't been able to maintain the lifestyle you had before or be as present for your sister. This situation has really reminded me how important family is. Would you be interested in returning to the security forces in terms of hours and responsibilities? You wouldn't be stepping down as handmaiden, exactly, but…" Eyebrows raised faintly in surprise, Sabé kept listening. "I want to create a special role for you. A new position entirely. I've been thinking about it for a few days now. We can discuss the details later, but what do you think?"

Such an unexpected line of thought had caught Sabé off guard. "Milady, I'm so honored you're so considerate of the people in your service," she answered truthfully, feeling very seen and appreciated in that moment. She remained hesitant. "…I _do_ feel that I've abandoned my responsibilities as far as Zana's concerned the past months. We're all each other has and—" Sabé stopped herself from getting too personal. "I've been considering bringing it up to you, I just didn't want to…"

"Be seen as disloyal?" Padmé guessed, then put a reassuring hand on her principle handmaiden's arm. "Sabé, you're anything but. Your service during this calamity will never be forgotten." She squeezed then let go. "I want you to take the rest of the night for you and Zana." She saw Sabé forming a protest and held up a finger that was a gentle command. "Go. Rest, get those scrapes looked at. Be with your sister. Everything else can wait until tomorrow."

Sabé bowed her head halfway, grateful and feeling undeserving. "Thank you Milady."

* * *

Settled in a guest chamber of the palace for that night, Sabé and Zana had both showered, dried, and dressed in fresh clothes. Yané had brought some food by for Sabé, and a medic droid had come by and put bacta patches on her cuts and scrapes. She wore a crushed velvet jumpsuit with long sleeves made of linen for the time being, choosing not to put on sleep clothes yet. Sabé felt like a new person, and relished being with her sister again.

They sat on the edge of the plush bed the quarters was furnished with. Sabé was carefully brushing and braiding Zana's hair. Outside, the sky was dark purple, sunset having passed about thirty minutes ago.

"I thought Jedi couldn't die," Zana said presently, an unspoken question. She was picking absently at a spot on her light blue sleeping robe.

Sabé paused mid brushstroke, a pang flickering in her chest. "If only that were true, little flower." She resumed, a little more somber. "They're not invincible. No one is."

"I know," Zana said quietly, her tone and faroff gaze betraying her thoughts.

Sabé stopped completely, repositioning to level her sister with an intent gaze. "Ludo told me. About the boy who died in your group." Zana's expression flashed, showing apprehension and pain. Sabé softly tucked some hair behind her little ear. "Do you need to talk about it?"

Zana began avoiding eye contact. "Talking won't do anything."

It was extremely difficult to see this child who she had practically raised go through this. "I know," Sabé replied, wishing she had a magic solution to fix things. "It's all right to be sad. And angry too. For as long as you need to be." Sensing that Zana wanted to get off this topic as soon as possible, Sabé left her with a brief squeeze and kiss on the side of her head. "You can talk to me whenever you want." She began brushing again, then braiding the other side of Zana's head.

"I've decided on my future career," Zana announced a few seconds later.

Weaving strands hyper fast, Sabé's brow furrowed in interest as she made it to the end of the final plait and secured it. "Oh?"

Zana turned to look at Sabé with a strongly held chin and a glint of determination in her eye. "I want to be a medic. I want to know how to help and heal people." She paused. "Like Gregar." Her voice grew a little softer. "Like Alza."

The boy who had died. Sabé felt pride and sadness at once burst in her chest. "That's wonderful Zana." She hugged her close, closing her eyes as she held her sister close. She treasured this more than ever after the past few days. "You'll make an incredible medic." She meant that. Zana was very even-keeled, logical, kindhearted, and given to academic excellence. Drawing back, Sabé stroked her hand over Zana's head a few times, thinking of this weapon-averse child who had taken up a blaster to defend her people the best she could the past few days. Sabé felt a keen sense of what she imagined a mother might feel: incredible pride and fear all at once, an urge to keep this girl safe forever. "I wish I could protect you from the bad things in this world."

Zana made a good-natured face. "I might only be eleven, but I know how the galaxy works."

Eyebrows up high, Sabé grinned. "Oh, really? When did you grow up, huh?" She touched the tip of Zana's nose, amusing both of them. She then patted the fluffy bedspread. "Let's crawl into bed, I'm going to tell you all about everything. Then I want to hear your story too."

* * *

After both of the Nebira girls had filled the other one in on everything that happened since their separation the afternoon of invasion, Zana had fallen asleep. Sabé had tucked her in and quietly went back out, looking for the room she'd seen Gregar in earlier. He was in a room full of cots and first aid volunteers, half asleep on a raised cot. A couple other officers were nearby resting or injured.

He woke when she approached. "Hey Gregs." He had a patch over his eye, and a temporary cast on his leg. She pulled a nearby chair over to sit in.

"Hurricane Nebira," he said, grinning and working to sit himself up in the bed.

"You look like opee chum," she teased deadpan, falling into their old routine of friendly insults and jabs as she fixed his pillow for his back so he could sit better. "How are you holding up?

Gregar shrugged and shook his head. "I'll survive," he said, giving her a thin smile. "Where's Zana?"

"Asleep finally."

"Good. Well, looks like I'm stuck this way." He pointed to the patch on his eye with a wan expression. "Did you know shooting with your non-dominant eye is kriffing tough?"

"Your aim's always been bad, that's no excuse," she joked, then smiled when he made a face. "We'll get you back up to speed."

"Promise?" he asked, just as playful as she was.

"Promise." She had her hands clasped and became more sincere. "Thank you for watching Zana. I'm forever indebted. I mean it."

Gregar shook his head no. "I don't know about _that_."

"You kept her safe when I couldn't."

He drew a deep breath. "We all kept each other safe." Gregar studied her for a moment. "Would she talk to you about Alza?"

"Not really."

"Hm. Counseling wouldn't be a bad idea for her when things settle down," he advised, his warm brown eyes conveying a lot of depth. "I worried about you, Sabé. Especially with the decoy plan."

She appreciated it of course, but Sabé felt distinctly uncomfortable and really didn't want to delve deep into feelings. At least not with Gregar. "I need to forget all this for a little bit," she said, dodging and then spotting a deck of cards nearby. She was already reaching for them. "Got time for a hand of sabacc?"

He hadn't missed the way she skipped replying to him, but he already had put a smile on. "Can't you see I'm very busy here?" he joked.

She cocked a nonplussed eyebrow at him, already sorting the deck. "I'll deal."

* * *

After a couple rounds of sabacc, Sabé returned to Zana, who snored lightly. Sabé still found herself sleepless even though the hour was growing decidedly late. She elected finally to go out onto the veranda off their quarters. The night was cool enough that a light cape felt appropriate, and Sabé hugged it around herself as she stepped from inside to outside. Overhead, stars laid bright and sparkling in a velvet sky. The moons were full and large that night, bathing everything in silver light and making for easy visibility.

Sabé approached the veranda railing with eyes on the stars above and hugged her arms around herself more, leaning slightly into the thick cool stone when she came to the banister. Her gaze lowered to the cityscape of Theed—further off beyond the palace grounds, the teal rotunda rooftops dotting the buildings that made up the city were a familiar and peaceful sight. The waterfalls on the opposite side of the palace were just a pleasant background roar. Some nightbirds were calling low to each other back and forth from the gardens nestled underneath the second-story veranda she stood on. Peace would once again reign. For the first time since the Trade Federation invaded, she felt true optimism.

And also… her brow furrowed slightly… keen pain. Sabé looked over and was so startled she almost jumped. To her right on the next veranda over, Obi-Wan stood at the banister facing outward, moon illuminating him in a beautiful, haunting way. His face was turned up toward the sky, eyes soft, expression thoughtful and tinted by pain. The two of them were perhaps only fifteen or twenty feet apart, which was why she was so startled that she hadn't noticed him.

He of course seemed to know she was there and had only been waiting for her to notice. He turned his attention to her, and for a moment, neither said anything. "Obi-Wan," she finally managed softly. She was unsure of what to say to the grieving Jedi Knight. "Trouble sleeping?"

"No rest for the weary," he replied. He sounded morose and stripped of something he'd had before. "You?"

"Too exhausted to sleep," she admitted, peering at him while trying not to come across too intense or too worried. She took a couple seconds to decide whether or not to ask: "Are you… doing better?"

He drew a deep breath and looked out toward the city, nodding so faintly it could have been imagined. "Yes. I am."

She believed him, but also knew how nonlinear grief could be. How the entire galaxy felt turned upside down upon losing someone unexpectedly. She felt incredibly sensitive to the state of mind she imagined him to be in. "Do you need anything?"

The ghost of a sad smile touched his lips and the corners of his eyes. "A tricky question indeed." He turned to her again and leaned a bit more casually. "Your sister, she's all right?"

She blinked twice. "Yes." Sabé felt a confused, touched warmth in her heart. "You remembered."

Obi-Wan nodded, more fully this time. "I'm glad she's safe."

She couldn't speak for all Jedi Knights. But Obi-Wan had a compassion and character that was in no way put-on. Was it any wonder she felt drawn to him? Her heart broke on his behalf all over again as she thought of his face when she had delivered the robes back to him. A few days ago she hadn't known this man at all. Now, it felt like a small friendship had been built… a friendship she hadn't anticipated at all. "Obi-Wan, I'm so sorry."

He digested her condolence with a hard to read expression, his eyes on the stone railing for a long moment. "It's more difficult than I thought it would be. Losing someone in this way."

She nodded slowly. "I know." Recalling the feelings and sensations at learning her parents were dead was easy—the experience had left her changed forever. "Nothing can ever prepare you for how it feels to lose a loved one," she said, wishing she knew what to do or say to help. Perhaps leaving and giving him his space would be most respectful. "Do you… want to be alone right now?"

Obi-Wan's distracted gaze flicked up to hers. "No. On the contrary I…" he trailed off, his eyes gentle but unsure on hers. It was only the span of seconds, but the eye contact became too intense for both of them, and their eyes fell away at the same moment. Obi-Wan cleared his throat briefly. "Please stay a bit, if you haven't somewhere else to be." He paused, then thought out loud, or that's how it came off. "I notified the Council. They'll arrive tomorrow morning. The funeral will take place. And then Anakin will become a Jedi."

Sabé stole a glance at his profile. "Who will his master be?"

Obi-Wan's jaw flexed. "Me." A single word said with a great deal of weight. "Qui-Gon's dying wish. That I would train the boy in his place."

Sabé nodded, smiling grimly at the bittersweet situation. "Anakin will have a wonderful teacher then."

A compliment that bounced right off completely. "I'm barely a master myself," Obi-Wan replied, and he sounded a couple steps from forlorn. "I don't feel ready," he admitted, catching her gaze again. He was so very human and normal in that moment to her. He shook his head and his expression soured. "And first, I have to get the council to agree to this blasted plan of mine."

Sabé made a _hmm_ sound that drew a curious look from Obi-Wan. "You remind me of me," she explained thoughtfully. "When Zana and I lost our parents. I wasn't even thirteen yet. She was six." The handmaiden's gaze became distant as she looked over the city and reflected. "I wasn't ready at all. But I suddenly just had to be."

Obi-Wan sounded very dubious. "You… were allowed to have custody at twelve?"

Sabé threw a conspiratorial glance his way. "It wasn't a typical allowance. Not at all. Fourteen is the age of responsibility here on Naboo and sixteen is adulthood. But I knew we'd be separated if I didn't try. So I filed a court motion, refused to be ignored, and… somehow, after jumping through some hoops and joining the guard to ensure an income and housing, the judge granted me conditional custody. It became full permanent custody a year later." She pressed her lips together, trying to bring it back to her point instead of bore him with details about her life. "I didn't feel ready. I didn't know what I was doing." She shrugged shallowly and looked at him again, a certain serenity coming over her as she thought of all the hard work, sacrifice, and uncertainty that had felt impossible to tackle. "We're here. And we've made it this far. I think you will too."

Obi-Wan considered a moment, looking into the mid-distance. "You make it sound simple."

"Do I?" she asked, a soft airy sound like a laugh escaping her mouth. "It's not."

A small, boyish smile lit his face as he glanced at her. "Wishful thinking, I suppose."

Sabé walked to the corner of her veranda, closing the distance between them a bit. "Padmé told me Anakin said the council had decided _not_ to train him."

Obi-Wan turned to sit on the stone railing, facing her direction by sitting at an angle. "It's true. They say he's too old. And, well. He is."

Sabé mimicked him, sitting crookedly on the stone railing on her side. "How old were you?"

"When I first came to the temple?" he asked, eyes darting around in thought. "Around three I think. Which, oddly enough, was uncharacteristically old. Most Force-sensitive individuals are identified within six months of birth." He shook his head as if to say it didn't matter. "Either way, Anakin's training will not be typical." He breathed out heavily, vexed. "There's no guidebook for it, no parameters to lead the way."

Sabé contemplated. She was ignorant to the way of the Jedi as a whole, only knowing surface-level things. But she had to wonder… "Isn't that what the Force is for?"

Obi-Wan looked at her as if he had been struck by lightning, then his eyebrows raised in a mild expression of fascinated thoughtfulness. He made a hmm sound. "Right you are." He chuckled briefly, the action making his eyes crinkle softly and a dimple cut into a cheek. "Sometimes the bigger picture escapes me in favor of the smaller details." He thought a moment more, expression growing more serious. "Either way. He _will_ be trained. Whether I have their approval or not." Sabé found herself smiling at him with an expression that could be called fond. Obi-Wan saw it and seemed unsure. "What?"

"Nothing," she said, but didn't try to wipe the smile off her face. "Just…" she thought of how to put it into words. "The rebel side of me admires that."

Obi-Wan's more stern expression faded into the whisper of a smile. "At least I have _one_ person on my side of things," he said, and seeing that glimmer of his personality peeking back out made her smile back a little more.

"Bay?" a little voice came. Zana was peeking out from the doorway in, disgruntled by sleepiness. "I woke up and you were gone."

Sabé's smile left, but her expression remained pleasant and kind. "I'm right here. And I'll be right in."

Zana rubbed an eye and mumbled 'okay' then went back in as Sabé stood up and cleared her throat. Obi-Wan stood too. She almost felt regretful to leave, and thought perhaps he could tell.

"Rest well, Sabé," he told her.

"I hope you can too," she said earnestly, and reluctantly bid him farewell. "Goodnight."

She didn't have to look back to know his eyes followed her as she went inside.

* * *

The next morning, the queen called a small group into one of the outer palace towers at sunrise without telling them why. Among those called were all of the handmaidens (dressed in yellow gowns without the hoods yet up), Captain Panaka, pilot Ric Olié, R2-D2, Jar Jar, Lieutenant Gregar Typho, Officer Atané Ludo, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker, and Zana Nebira.

The tower she gathered them in was open-air, letting in both the pleasant morning light as well as the fragrant, misty air. The view, three hundred and sixty degrees of a golden summer morning, was like a painting. Dressed in a simple hooded robe and her queen's makeup, Padmé stood opposite of everyone she had requested. Beside her on a tall and narrow round table was a wooden box. "Good morning all. I've assembled this small group of freedom fighters this morning to pay tribute and give thanks for your sacrifices and risks. Naboo would not be free without all of you."

She drew out of the box a jewel-crafted medal of honor. One of the highest symbols of esteem and valor that existed on Naboo. "Obi-Wan Kenobi." She presented it to him with two open hands and a bow. "We honor you. For everything you've given and lost, and all your master did for our people." Obi-Wan bowed in turn, taking the medal. "We thank you, into eternity."

The queen took another medal out and came to offer it to Sabé. "Lieutenant Nebira. For risking your life above others, for choosing to put yourself at the greatest risk of death and harm, for putting Naboo first and leading the victory charge at my side with bravery and valor, I hereby give you this medal of honor and bestow the rank of Commander upon you, with all the rights, privileges, and honor therein."

Sabé felt shocked eyes on her even as she tried not to outright gape. Commander was a higher rank than any officer she knew of in the forces. "Milady… I'm speechless," she said, to which Padmé smiled in good humor.

"A very rare moment indeed," the queen said serenely, and Sabé took the medal in a daze, a smile growing on her face. Just in front of her, Zana grinned up at her sister, squeezing her hand excitedly.

Padmé gave out medals to everyone in attendance.

Captain Panaka for his leadership and bravery.

Jar Jar Binks for his part in bringing the Gungan and Naboo together.

Rabé, Eirtaé, Saché, Yané for unwavering service and protection of those in their charge.

Typho and Ludo for the same. They were also given promotions to Captain.

Ric Olié for navigating their escape from Naboo.

R2-D2 for saving the ship from certain destruction.

Padmé finally came to the smallest two in attendance.

"Anakin Skywalker," she said, presenting the medal to a very star-eyed boy. "For your bravery and masterful piloting. Our fate has changed tide because of you, not once, but twice. We will always remember your work and courage that helped liberate our people."

"And finally, Zana Nebira," Padmé said, offering the medal to the eleven year old. "For your courage in defending the children of Naboo. We thank you for your bravery and willingness to protect others so selflessly." Padmé stood and addressed everyone then. "Unto all here, we ask blessings, mercy, guidance, and peace. And the people said:"

All in attendance who knew the response replied: "So we plead."

"The Republic shuttle is arriving soon with our newly elected Chancellor Palpatine," Padmé said, "we'll go to meet them in fifteen minutes."

The group broke into conversations. "Congratulations Commander," came a familiar accented voice. Obi-Wan was smiling and offering a handshake.

"Thank you," Sabé said, shaking firmly then indicating her sister. "Zana, meet Obi-Wan Kenobi."

Zana shook his hand too. "Nice to meet you sir." She clasped her hands in front of herself. "I have a great deal of respect for the Jedi way."

Pleasant surprise at her statement came over Obi-Wan's face. He glanced at Sabé as he replied. "And I have a great deal of respect for the people of Naboo."

"Is Anakin going to be busy today?" Zana asked.

Curious, Obi-Wan's head canted slightly to the side. "What did you have in mind?"

"After the shuttle comes, some of us are going to help with the droid cleanup in the plaza, maybe he could help."

An approving smile came over the Jedi's face and he nodded. "An excellent idea."

While that conversation continued, Panaka was approaching Padmé and he looked ill-tempered. "What does this mean, exactly?" Panaka asked. "With Nebira's promotion?"

Padmé gave the captain a cool look. "It means I am changing the way the security forces operate, Captain. We'll discuss these changes at length when the dust settles." She indicated the exit. "In the meantime, prepare for the shuttle arrival please."

With a dark glance at Sabé, Panaka briskly turned on his heel and left, doing as he was told.

Palpatine and the Jedi Council arrived not long after and the day was spent in a mixture of debriefing, political discussion, cleaning efforts, and seeing Theed slowly return to normal.

* * *

**Later That Evening**

At dusk, Qui-Gon's body was given a royal Naboo funeral. His casket, surrounded by fellow Jedi, made its way from the morgue to the royal mausoleum in a solemn march. The queen and her handmaidens were right behind. The city streets were full of those gathered to pay respects to the fallen Jedi who had helped liberate the planet. Children threw flower petals, many of which landed in the casket, decorating Qui-Gon's peaceful form. He'd been changed into an outfit that hid his final wound. He looked serene once more.

With the council present, Obi-Wan kept control on his emotions like he hadn't the day before. During the march and during the burning of the body, Obi-Wan remained pensive and reflective. Nothing more, nothing less. Earlier that day he had sought a private meeting with Yoda, who conferred upon Obi-Wan the title of Master without any sort of ceremony or fanfare. He also relented and said that despite the council's feelings that it was a bad idea, they were granting him permission to train Anakin. The boy didn't know this yet, and his anxiety, fear, and sadness came off of him like a beacon. Perhaps it wasn't a good idea. But it was what Obi-Wan had promised Qui-Gon.

When the flames died and all that was left was ashes and the light from flame torches ringing the round room, everyone except Obi-Wan and Anakin left—with the exception of two hooded handmaidens at either side of the doorway to escort the Jedi back.

The low light of the torches cast an orange hue onto everything. As Anakin watched the last guest leave, he turned to look at Obi-Wan tiredly. The boy had endured quite a few long, hard days and was obviously exhausted. Obi-Wan picked up a bundle left by one of the other Jedi masters and then took a knee to get to Anakin's eye level. "Qui-Gon wanted nothing more than to see you become a Jedi. He believed in you, and I believe in Qui-Gon." Anakin's perplexed, tired expression showed no understanding. "The Council has granted me permission to train you. We begin tomorrow."

Understanding now, Anakin reacted with wide eyes, trying to mask his surprise, apprehension, and fear. "Yes, sir." He wet his lips nervously and tried to stand a little taller, look a little more stern. "I—I mean Master."

Obi-Wan offered a little smile and touched the boy's shoulder. "There is no need to be afraid Anakin. I will guide you and teach you with everything I possess, just as Qui-Gon would have." Obi-Wan handed over the bundle to Anakin. "Here."

Anakin took it and looked it over—clothing. A sandy pair of leggings, a matching long sleeve tunic, a small Jedi belt, boots to match. His eyes grew huge, his tiredness momentarily a memory. "Is this…?" he asked breathlessly.

"Yes." Obi-Wan answered, and Anakin hugged the outfit to himself tightly. Obi-Wan pulled out the small hair clipper he'd pocketed earlier. "Are you ready to look the part?"

Anakin nodded, eyes bright with excitement. It didn't take Obi-Wan long to trim Anakin's hair into a style that essentially matched his own: short on the sides and back, longer and spiked at the top. He left some of Anakin's shaggy hair long just behind his right ear then braided it tightly, securing it, explaining what the padawan braid was as he went. He then took Anakin by both upper arms. "You have a long road in front of you Anakin. But I will be with you along every step of the way."

Anakin nodded, but he looked like he was again physically fighting to keep his eyes open. "Master Obi-Wan? I'm very tired sir."

"So am I." Obi-Wan smiled and rose. "Shall we?" He glanced up at the handmaidens, whose midnight-black cloaks concealed their identities well. But he already knew the one on the left was Sabé from sense alone. Silently, the handmaidens walked one ahead of and one behind them, guiding them back to the palace.

They entered into the palace, which was the kind of quiet that caused people to want to whisper. The women both took off their hoods and Rabé reached a hand for Anakin, who still carried his clothing close. "Come with me, Ani," she said, and he automatically took her hand and trudged along after her, throwing a, "goodnight, Master Obi-Wan," over his shoulder.

"Goodnight, my apprentice," Obi-Wan returned, his face thoughtful as he tested out the phrase for the first time. Not dwelling on it, he turned to Sabé, who he felt had something to say to him. He was right.

"The queen wanted me to let you know Qui-Gon's ashes will be prepared and sent to you in the morning before the celebration." Obi-Wan nodded, noticing how she looked at him with questioning eyes. "…Isn't it customary to cut off your braid now that you're a master?"

Surprised, he looked down at the offending braid. He'd forgotten it was there at all. He'd been made master in an offhand declaration from Yoda instead of the traditional ceremony, which would have included shearing off the padawan braid. Obi-Wan looked at Sabé again. She was the first person he saw after Qui-Gon had died. Since Qui-Gon couldn't do this for him, it seemed suddenly fitting that she should. "Do you have a knife?"

The question produced a quietly sassy expression on her part. "And just what kind of question is that?" She asked, and out from her sleeve came a wickedly glinting switchblade. She hesitated, frowning as her bravado faded. "Shouldn't someone else do it though?"

Obi-Wan saw an excellent opportunity to metaphorically bat at her. "Why, is your blade not sharp enough?" he challenged impishly, surprising himself with how easily humor came after such a sober evening.

His comment had quite the effect. Sabé grabbed the end of his braid and pulled to make it taut, her eyes challenging him right back. That pull brought them chest-to-chest, and their expressions faded at the sudden closeness. Sabé's eyes looked back and forth between his, and her grip on the braid became more slack for a second. Then she firmly pulled it tight again and cut the braid near the scalp in a single flick. She handed his braid to him, stepping back to a less personal distance. "Master Kenobi," she said, and he recognize a farewell by her tone.

He bowed his head just slightly. "Commander Nebira."

With another cryptic look that could be called both intrigued and apprehensive, Sabé turned and left, her robes swirling darkly behind her as she went. Obi-Wan watched her go, fiddling with his braid between his fingers, his expression hard to read.

Above, concealed in the shadows, Master Yoda watched with a thoughtful claw resting against his fuzzy chin.


	9. Final Words

Dusk was warm over the city of Theed, leaving the sky a dark purple that was fading into velvet blue. Earlier that day, the joyful city-wide parade and celebration ceremonies had left the streets strewn in ribbons and confetti. Human and Gungan alike were celebrating planetwide, with Queen Amidala hosting a regal celebration in the palace ceremonial halls. Hundreds of people and Gungans were in attendance. Including one not-so-enthusiastic guest.

Sitting on a stair and leaning into a huge column at the edge of the large banquet hall, Obi-Wan's expression was shrewd and serious, not matching the atmosphere of the party he felt obligated to attend. In his hand, a forgotten drink that was surely half-melted by now.

The din of conversation, glass clinking, people laughing, and upbeat, stringed music playing was hard to think in. The air was thick with the scent of wine and liquor, as well as every type of roast and baked good conceivable. Obi-Wan cast glances about for the other members of the council who had chosen to attend the dinner banquet and afterparty. While some of them had elected to go straight to the shuttle that would taken them back to Coruscant soon, some had seen fit to make an appearance here at Amidala's grand dinner feast and celebration. Mace Windu was currently talking to Governor Bibble, no doubt about politics. Master Yoda was in Padmé Amidala and Palpatine's company. Depa Billaba, Ki-Adi-Mundi and Adi Gallia had been in conversation over drinks for going on an hour now. Anakin had asked to go outside and play with the other children in the gardens. Obi-Wan hadn't had the heart to say 'no, a Jedi does not play.' When they got back to Coruscant the real training would begin. So for now, Obi-Wan was left to bide his time. Leaving felt rude, that and… there was someone he felt he owed an earnest goodbye to.

Obi-Wan scanned the room for Sabé, who he'd been more or less keeping track of all night. During the two-hour dinner she'd stood behind Padmé opposite of Rabé, a few feet off, remaining as still as a statue the entire time. Nothing but her eyes moving, and even that had been difficult to see because of the hood that had been up. Having handmaidens offsetting the queen in every situation wasn't an ornamental move and Obi-Wan understood that now. No doubt she and Rabé had been standing guard.

Now, it seemed she'd been given relief from the post. Standing a few yards off from him with a drink, she was in a conversation circle, but seemed to just be listening rather than participating… her eyes wandering and the nervous tapping of a finger against her glass giving away her restlessness. Obi-Wan found himself smiling in a private moment of entertainment: she could remain statue-like for two hours at her guard post, but barely stand still during social engagements as herself. He could relate.

She was dressed differently than he'd seen her before: she wore a lighter sage green dress, and over it was a darker green sleeveless floorlength cape emblazoned with swirled Naboo symbols. The lack of sleeves showed strong arms cuffed by mid-bicep bands—her injury from Tatooine, an angry red slash underneath—and her wrists were encircled by wide bracelets. The hood of her outfit was down unlike earlier, showing her hair elegantly pulled back into three knots—the first just below the crown of her head, the second close below it at the back of her scalp, the final one at the base of her neck. A delicate gold chain jewelry piece was draped across her forehead and ran down either side of her head with twinkling loops of chain, giving her a regal appearance. Although all of the handmaidens wore the same outfit tonight, they all had different hairstyles and accessories. He found himself reflecting on how Sabé really did look strikingly similar to Padmé but… if he had to quantify it, he would have to admit that he found Sabé more physically beautiful.

As he studied her from halfway across the room, he thought about how she was the only person here he'd formed a real connection with. Panaka and Padmé, he'd formed a working relationship with. Jar Jar too he supposed (unfortunately). But with Sabé, something deeper had come forth. Friendship was the best word, he decided. And allyship the runner up. Tonight, however, was the closing chapter of this fleeting friendship. A fact that made him feel… a touch melancholic. Noticing his feelings, Obi-Wan grew frustrated and uncomfortable with himself. The typical human part of him routinely experienced many feelings and thoughts that were not becoming of a person who lived by the Code. The Jedi part of him understood some feelings and thoughts were inevitable, and he had learned to overlook or discipline himself out of his own tendencies throughout the years. But he still had his moments.

At that moment, Sabé caught his gaze and sent a little smile—a silent hello—his way. They hadn't spoken much that day outside of the necessary in passing. He raised the drink her way, mirroring her little smile. She thought for a second, then darted her eyes toward the left end of the room, then looked at him questioningly. Brow furrowing, Obi-Wan looked in that direction seeing nothing but doorways to the outdoor veranda. He looked back at Sabé with questions of his own silent on his face. She nudged her head this time, once as a question and then the next as a decision. She began to go that way, slipping through the tightly packed room like silk. Obi-Wan tensed, bracing himself to stand. His feelings were warning him against following her. Writing it off as overthinking, he stood decisively and did it anyway.

Obi-Wan stepped out onto the balcony, breathing deeply the Naboo night air which was thick, cool, and full of the rich smell of earth, ozone, and plants. The sound of the waterfalls filled the air, diminishing the loud sounds of the party within the palace. Immediately, he felt calmer and clearer.

Ahead, Sabé had her glass at the veranda railing and awaited him with an expression that gave it all away: she didn't like being at the party either. Obi-Wan approached, going with a joke as his greeting. "So I see you enjoy a good party too."

"If by 'enjoy' we mean I'd rather shoot myself in the foot, then yes," she said, halfway joking but halfway serious too.

Obi-Wan lifted his glass, chuckling, as he came to stand beside her, facing outward to the gardens below. "Cheers."

She looked conspiratorial. "Cheers." Their drinkware clinked and Sabé saluted her glass to him once more before sipping. "Here's to hiding from every _one_ and every _thing_."

"I'll certainly drink to that," Obi-Wan agreed, sipping his too through a pleasant smile. Sabé turned to face the same direction as he was, leaning against the railing in what might be considered too casual a manner for her fancier outfit. They watched the children racing back and forth between the hedges of the garden that stretched out directly under the veranda. Zana was there, as well as Anakin and various other children Obi-Wan didn't know. Shrieks of delight drifted upward as the children tried to catch invisible things out of the air. Was this some type of game he'd never heard of before? Obi-Wan frowned thoughtfully. "Do you know what they're doing?"

Sabé put her face into a hand as she leaned, turning a touch nostalgic as she watched Zana leaping high and grabbing at air. "Chasing firewing bugs," she said with a smile. "If you can catch one, you can make a wish." She gave him a knowing look. "But they're _very_ tricky to catch." She watched Anakin for a few moments longer. "How's he doing with everything?"

Obi-Wan didn't know how to answer, which vexed him further. He might not have even answered at all if it were someone else who asked, but he felt a growing sense of trust in Sabé and her judgment. "I'm… not entirely sure," he shared hesitantly. "His energy is very chaotic and conflicted. He's a child who lived a very different path than a Jedi youngling would. Slavery, poverty, isolation on a barren world…" He moved his glass, listening to the melted ice cubes hit dully. His path felt heavy to him and very uncertain. That, and the council's apprehension about Anakin made Obi-Wan feel immensely pressured. "I sense much fear in him."

Sabé didn't view the statement as deeply as it was meant. "I'd be scared too if I was suddenly taken from a parent and my homeworld then thrust into all this."

"It's… not as simple as being scared," Obi-Wan said, thinking deeply about how to put it so she would understand. "It's… fearfulness. I'm not sure how to describe it."

"It's an overall energy that you feel through the Force, you're saying?"

"Yes, the makeup of his spirit and soul, more or less," Obi-Wan replied. "Everyone has a certain energy to them."

Sabé's face indicated that this was a new revelation to her, but that it made sense. She then grinned somewhat challengingly, turning sideways while leaning an arm on the railing still. It created a certain impish effect. "What's my energy like, then?"

Obi-Wan looked at her unguardedly for a long moment. He should have known she would ask that. He remembered that moment when he'd touched her face and had felt her energy so intensely. "Steadfast. Focused." He felt something like a good-natured smile catching his lips to curve them upward. "Very stubborn."

She grinned in a carefree, full way he'd never seen her do before. It made her look even prettier than he'd thought she was, cutting dimples into her cheeks and making her eyes sparkle. "I can think of a few people who would agree," she said, chuckling almost self-deprecatingly. "Especially with the stubborn part." But Obi-Wan didn't laugh along. He was thinking of the other words that described her energy as he watched her helplessly. Vulnerable but intimidating. Pure of intention. Quietly powerful, like a tranquil river whose currents underneath could drown an able-bodied man. Some part of her drew him in like a magnet, and he found himself wanting to know more and simultaneously trying to reject that instinct. Feeling how soft his expression was and noticing how at ease he was suddenly made him feel guilty. Noticing her companion's changing expression, Sabé's face faded into brief concern. "What?"

"Nothing, nothing." He cleared his throat and cast around for something, anything to say to make conversation flow. He tried to be light, and change the conversation to something surface level. "I, uh—I noticed everyone has different hairstyles tonight. Is there some hidden meaning?"

She looked at him oddly, like she knew he was up to something and wasn't sure whether to laugh at him or be suspicious. "Yes, it means we were allowed to pick our own styles for once," she answered with a touch of friendly sarcasm. She visibly decided to let her curiosity about his changed expression go, and touched a loose hair that had come out just above her ear and tucked it back into place. "This is a traditional style worn by both warriors and royalty in ancient Naboo history. I always used to train and wear this style. Never wore it to something nice before, so…" She shrugged, then turned her back to the railing, leaning and taking a sip as she watched the party inside for a few brief moments. She looked amused. Obi-Wan glanced back to see what she was smiling at: Mace Windu was trying to refuse drinks being offered him by a very jovial, very inebriated Boss Nass. Windu's cantankerous expression made Sabé chuckle in the base of her throat and throw an entertained glance Obi-Wan's way. "Jedi don't go to parties very much, do they?"

Celebrations had their place, but Jedi preferred the simple way. "It's not the most familiar place for us," he said, attempting to be more professional and less personal with his responses. "We don't celebrate things really."

She definitely noticed his sudden change of demeanor. "Holidays? Birthdays? Promotions?" she prompted, maybe trying to see if she could get him to be more easygoing again.

Obi-Wan looked over the gardens, keeping his expression tight. "For a Jedi, selflessness is the goal. We view celebration of those type of things as being unnecessary and extravagant, rooted in the ego." He realized he was beginning to sound rude, and attempted to backpedal, feeling guilty again. He threw a glance her way. "However, celebrating the liberation of a people is acceptable."

She had a doubtful but good humored look on her face. "Ah, what a relief," she joked, making a face then downing the rest of her drink in a single gulp, apparently not caring to appear delicate or ladylike. She winced and made a sound of mild disgust, dashing at her mouth with the back of her hand. "This Gungan wine tastes like it was brewed in a tree trunk."

Obi-Wan couldn't stop the sly little smile that popped onto his face. "You still drank it all, didn't you?"

Sabé said nothing, just smiled and chuckled, turning to the railing and setting her drink aside, joining him in looking off into the stars that were beginning to come out. A long few seconds passed, then she spoke again, sounding thoughtful and a little subdued. "I guess you're leaving soon, aren't you."

She turned her head to look at him, waiting for his reply, and he met her gaze. "Tonight."

Her face fell. Surprise showed. " _Tonight_?"

"Whenever Master Yoda gives me the signal."

Sabé's eyebrows rose a little further. "That could be any moment!" She looked at him with a question in her eyes, as if she was considering feeling hurt. "And you weren't going to tell me?"

He gave her a sidelong look that was almost sly, sidestepping a more telling answer easily. "You _do_ seem to have found out."

His reply made her chagrinned. Shaking her head and trying not to smile while sighing lengthily, she leaned onto her elbows. "I appreciate the vote of confidence." She paused a long moment. When she spoke again, she sounded distinctly vulnerable, like asking made her nervous. "Would you really leave without saying goodbye?"

The question hurt him, there was no way around it. He knew what she meant, but he still tried to skirt it with his answer. "The queen is occupied, I'm sure—"

Sabé cut him off quietly. "You know she's not who I meant."

Yes… he did know. He looked at her fully then, his heartbeat feeling more rapid than it should. Their gazes held and he swallowed. This could be a problem, and his instincts told him just how easily. It wasn't Sabé's fault that he felt this battle inside of himself. Nothing she'd done was inappropriate or deserved the cold shoulder treatment. So he answered her truthfully. "No. I wouldn't." That softened her tense forehead. It felt like he was opening himself up in a defenseless position to say the words, as simple and as they were, but he did it anyway: "You've been very kind to me during a difficult time, Sabé. And I thank you for that." He could have elaborated on just how meaningful it was, but he thought that was better left private. "Our friendship has been an unexpected but welcome experience."

Sabé's expression mirrored his, and a soft smile grew. "I feel the same." For a moment, she contended herself to look outward at the skyline, turning a shade more wistful, her eyes thoughtful and dark. "Will I ever see you again, Obi-Wan Kenobi?" she asked, looking at him after she asked.

A question that made him feel another quicken in his heartbeat. Replying was difficult, not because he didn't know how to answer, but because of how her words had caused him to feel. She wanted to see him again. "Who am I to say what life has in store?" he replied softly, answering a question with a question.

A loud burst of laughter and general drunken happiness erupted in the hall behind them, and movement drew both their eyes. People were coming out, in droves. "Oh—the light show," Sabé said, and as if on cue, overhead, there was a sudden brilliant streak of light paired with a high pitched squeal, then a huge boom. Lights began exploding overhead. Obi-Wan recognized them as fireworks. Children ran up the garden staircase, crowding against the bannister for a better view as guests from the party filled the previously empty veranda.

No longer just the two of them, Sabé and Obi-Wan held a lingering gaze, then watched the light show together. Or, Sabé watched anyway. Obi-Wan kept looking at her instead, watching how the lights reflected in her eyes, how the sudden brightness and fade into darkness hit the features of her face. Zana wiggled her way in from nearby, leaning into her sister's side, and one of Sabé's arms hugged her close as they watched together. Anakin had stationed himself close to Obi-Wan, and on a whim, the master reached down and put both hands onto Anakin's shoulders. A gesture he hoped was reassuring and strengthening. Anakin peeked up at him briefly, then smiled. Obi-Wan smiled back.

Just then, Obi-Wan sensed a call, and looked through the crowd where Mace Windu was signaling him. It was time to go. Reluctant, but not serving that feeling with his actions, Obi-Wan leaned down to speak into Anakin's ear above the noise. "Anakin. Come with me. It's time to go."

Panicking, the boy darted off with a, "I gotta say bye to Padmé!"

Sabé was already alert to what was happening, already watching after Anakin then looking to Obi-Wan with a sad smile. So this was goodbye. He felt the way her smile looked. Not knowing what else to do, he settled on putting his hand out for a handshake. "Until we meet again."

She smiled softly, an expression tinged with a certain bittersweetness. She put her hand into his, but neither of them shook. Their hands just held briefly. "Until we meet again," she replied, a promise. He was feeling that intense sensation again, just like on Tatooine when he'd touched her face. The one where looking into her eyes felt inescapable. He made himself go, letting his hand slip from hers. He backed up a few steps, then tore his gaze away and turned to disappear into the crowd.

Sabé watched him go, the lightshow forgotten completely as her eyes followed his retreat. The feeling of loss and disappointment was strong, although she logically didn't know what she had expected. She made herself return to watching the lights, stooping a little to hug Zana close. Her ability to focus was temporarily destroyed.

The fireworks ended about five minutes later, and Zana begged Sabé to come walk the gardens with her and try to catch a firewing bug. Sabé complied, not entirely there mentally, but aware that Zana's more childlike wishes like catching bugs would fade in the next few years. Even as Zana leapt around trying to catch the barely visible glowing bugs, Sabé's eyes frequently watching the sky, searching for the shuttle that would take off soon with the Jedi on board.

She was so distracted that a sudden question of, "So what do you like so much about him?" startled her.

Sabé stared with veiled surprise at Zana who stood straight in front of her with an expectant look. A defensive at her sister's question, Sabé crossed her arms. "Like _who_ so much?"

Zana made an unamused, overly dramatic face. "Are you _really_ going to pretend not to know who I'm talking about?"

Sabé supposed it might be too much to hope her own flesh and blood wouldn't be able to see through her, but it bothered her nonetheless. She did find herself thinking over what she liked about Obi-Wan despite herself. There was just something about him—a nobleness, a strength of character—and something unnamable that drew her in despite her best efforts. "Doesn't matter," she answered, trying to downplay it all and act casual, picking a loose petal off of a nearby shrug and flicking it. "We'll probably never see any of them again."

Zana contemplated her sister for a thoughtful moment, becoming less fondly antagonistic in favor of empathetic. "I think he liked you too."

Distinctly embarrassed, Sabé tried to change the narrative. "Some _friendships_ are only for the blink of an eye," she told her sister, putting an arm around her sister and walking them forward and back toward the warm lights of the palace.

Zana looked up and sidelong, a cheeky smile on her face. "Mmmhmm," she said, then pulled at Sabé's hand and arm. "You promised me earlier… can we _please_ go dance now?"

Sabé sighed, knowing she had to give in. She _had_ promised, and seeing as such, she nodded. Zana let out a whoop and the sisters made their way in, Zana more excitedly. When they got to the veranda, Zana was at a run to make it inside, while Sabé paused at the doorway and searched the stars above. There was a longing in her chest, a feeling of reaching and not wanting to let go. She thought about his final words to her: _Until we meet again._ Just then, she saw the shuttle rising up into the sky and ascending into the darkness above.

She stood straighter and drew in a deep breath. _And so it must be._

With little idea of what the future held, Sabé resolved to keep her focus in the current moment and went inside, doing her best to leave the thought of Obi-Wan behind.


	10. The Missing Commander

**Hand of Fate**

Chapter 10 / The Missing Commander

* * *

**The Inner Rim  
** **3 Years After the Battle For Naboo**

A relatively small diplomatic Nubian ship soared through silent space as the blue-and-green planet of Thyferra grew smaller behind it. Sleek in design and meant for trips of one to four, the yellow and stone accented cruiser only carried two passengers this time. In the dark cockpit, a gleaming copper-colored D-series protocol droid piloted as the acting captain finished marking down some notes on her datapad with intense focus.

"Hyperjump calculation initializing, Commander," the droid reported in a pleasant, female-leaning generated voice.

Sabé Nebira glanced over briefly. "Excellent, DC-10. Let me know when we're ready to make the jump."

"Of course," the droid replied.

Sabé finished her notes and set down her datapad, deep in thought, brushing loose pieces of wind-whipped hair back into the simple ponytail she'd put it in. A sense of pride came from being trusted by Padmé with jobs such as these. Ever since the battle of Naboo three years ago, Sabé's world had changed. No longer a palace security officer or a bodyguard handmaiden, she had been given the rank of Commander and tasked with a mixed bag: overseeing new recruit training, advising Naboo government along with Panaka on security measures, standing in as a handmaiden or guard when extra security detail was needed, and completing small missions for Padmé both onworld and off—sometimes with the queen, sometimes by herself, other times leading a small team herself. From minor espionage to ambassadorial work, Sabé had dipped her proverbial toes into waters she had only once imagined experiencing.

Today's journey had been to Thyferra, a planet that produced Naboo's bacta supply. Naboo and other systems relied heavily on this import, so working relations were important to upload. Meeting the officials, seeing the facilities and attending a bacta summit in representation to Naboo had been a little boring as far as Sabé was personally concerned, but all in a day's work, she supposed. She was now turning her thoughts in another direction and looking forward to the next few days: she had some time off and she and Zana were going to start working on medic school applications and possibly even tour a couple academies. In two years time, Zana would be ready to start that next part of her life and leave the nest so to speak, which was vastly bittersweet for her older sister. It was all going by so fast. It felt like no time at all had passed since the invasion. Since the battle. Since Obi-Wan.

A burst of rapid beeping drew Sabé's sudden scowl to the readout. "Commander, I'm picking up a very quickly incoming ship," DC-10 said, even as sensors increased from a mere warning to a scream. _An attack?_ Even as she thought that, their ship lurched as laserfire began to pummel them from behind. "We're being attacked!" DC cried out in an alarmed tone even as Sabé grabbed controls and banked hard to the left.

"Where did they come from?!" she asked no one in particular even as they continued to take very damaging hits. " _Kriff_ , DC, put all shields to the rear!" Sabé shouted, grabbing the thruster gear and throwing it to the side even as she yanked the throttle to engage her ship in an evasive barrel roll. "Activate a distress signal, _now,_ and scramble it!" _Who the blazes would be attacking us?_ She looped the ship forward in a wild spiral in an attempt to dodge the lasers, coaxing as much speed as possible out of a ship that wasn't built for dogfights or speed. She punched the rear view control with a thumb in an attempt to see who was attacking even as she suddenly veered to the right, but they had cloaking shields. She swore, hitting the console in frustration when she saw the error message: _hyperjump impossible_. Their engine had been damaged.

Suddenly, the ship lurched as if it was at the end of a rope—everything went still even as the engines pitifully tried to move the ship forward. But slowly, they began to go backwards. Even as her droid bemoaned their situation ("We're in their tractor beam. It's over. We're going to be killed!") Sabé was jumping up and checking her weapons, grabbing her blaster, then trying to peer out of the viewing port to see if she could physically see who was about to board them. All she could see was an outline of a dark gray ship with a skull painted in blood red onto the hull. Pirates? Bounty hunters? Slavers?

DC was now clanking around in a useless panic. "We're toast! It's over!"

Sabé grabbed the droid hard by their shoulder component. "Get your bolts together, DC!" she snapped, staring into the glowing greenblue photoreceptors. "You're making it really hard to stay calm right now." The ship creaked and moaned, and overhead, a shadow was cast as they came into their captor's docking bay.

Looking up and tensing as the stars of space were replaced by metal ship hull, Sabé's grip on her blaster tightened under sweaty fingers, her heart hammering and senses on high alert. "Come on," she whispered, nodding sideways toward the cockpit exit where the hallway to the main galley and boarding ramp was. "Let's welcome them onboard, shall we?" DC gave a fearful moan, following after the already running commander.

* * *

**Naboo  
** **Two Days Later**

Obi-Wan dropped out of hyperspace in his small Jedi fighter, disengaged from the hyperdrive device, and headed straight toward a sight that had made him instantly nostalgic: Naboo. Swirled blue and green, the planet was like a jewel, and he remembered the first time he saw it from space like this. Qui-Gon had been with him then. As he navigated in, old memories and thoughts came up without bidding. Things he thought he had set aside in the years since.

When Padmé's transmission had come in personally addressed to him and begging for help, he had been both surprised and concerned. Then when he heard the situation and who was missing… he'd felt a definite lurch of something. Willingness to help, and urgency to leave. Sabé, an old friend made during a brief time. They hadn't had any contact since that night on Naboo, but he'd be bending the truth if he didn't admit she came to mind from time to time: Everything from snippets of memories with her to wondering what she was doing and how her life was going. And rarely, dreams. Nothing too specific, mostly just replays of their interactions. Learning that she was missing after an offworld mission was unsettling. Obi-Wan had immediately gone before the council to ask permission to take on the task of finding the missing commander, and since his padawan was incapacitated currently and the council looked on Padmé Amidala favorably, the request was granted. The only one who had been slightly hesitant was Master Yoda, for unknown reasons.

Obi-Wan made his approach into Naboo's atmosphere and flew into the Theed hangar, the same one where his confrontation with the red-and-black horned sith lord had happened. More memories came, things that haunted his dreams and nightmares alike.

Awaiting him was a small landing party. As his ship set down and the cockpit glass raised up to allow him exit, he gave the group a cursory look over: It was Queen Amidala, wearing an aqua-green and gold embroidered gown with jewel-adorned hair arranged into an impossible loop around her head. She was flanked by four handmaidens in soft blue robes and beside her was a young teenage girl who bore striking resemblance to Sabé—she wore what looked like a school uniform. A couple of officers accompanied them, including a familiar looking young man with an eye-patch.

Standing and exiting his fighter as gracefully as possible, he approached the party even as the queen and her party moved toward him. Through her painted mask, he could see her worry. "Milady," he greeted, "it is good to see you again." He bowed deeply to show respect.

Padmé Amidala inclined her head in turn. "Thank you so much for coming, Master Obi-Wan."

"I am eager to help, Your Highness."

She hesitated, glancing at his fighter then him questioningly. "Is Anakin not with you?"

 _Anakin._ The mention of his unruly, constantly-in-trouble Padawan must have made Obi-Wan's expression change a bit. The Jedi Master took a moment to word himself delicately. "He's… currently unavailable." If that was what you wanted to call a two-week mandatory stay at the halls of healing due to the amount of broken bones he'd suffered in an act of ridiculous macho stupidity. Obi-Wan turned his attention to the anxiously silent girl just beside Amidala. There was no mistaking who she was. He bowed toward her as well. "Zana. I'm sorry to hear about your sister."

Zana had gotten a good deal taller and her features had sharpened and lengthened. She had been poised and mature at eleven, and he saw that now at what he guessed to be fourteen, she was the same. "Thank you for coming," she said, stress apparent in the way she held herself and spoke. "Something terrible's happened to her, I'm sure of it. Do you think you can help?"

"I'm most certainly going to try," he replied, conveying his empathy through his grim expression.

"We deeply hope you can help us find the missing commander," Amidala added. "We unfortunately don't even know how to begin looking for her."

Obi-Wan nodded. Amidala's message had been brief but informative: Sabé's ship, which Nubian officers had towed back to Theed, had been found abandoned by all appearances with evidence of some kind of boarding and attack. No clues as to who took her or why. "Can you show me the ship?" he asked.

The officer with the eyepatch stepped forward, then indicated to his right a laserfire-scarred vessel across the hangar by about fifty feet. "It's right over here." He nodded crisply and introduced himself: "Captain Gregar Typho."

Obi-Wan nodded acknowledgment. "Yes, I recall." They walked together with the group of women silently following then waiting a few paces away from the ship. The outside of the starcraft bore obvious marking of an attack from behind, which Obi-Wan scrutinized briefly before following the Captain up the ramp and inside.

Inside the main galley area, there were charred blasterfire lines and holes everywhere from what seemed to be quite the confrontation. Broken ship components scattered across the floor, signs of a valiant struggle. Grim, Obi-Wan ran his fingers across one particularly long laserfire scar across the inner hull on the way to the cockpit. Following behind him, Typho relayed more information. "The ship was left floating in space with the distress signal locked in and homing beacon activated. We have the coordinates marked down." Both men were now in the cockpit, which seemed untouched as far as laserfire went. Even as Obi-Wan attempted to access the main panel, Typho told him not to waste his time: "Ship logs are destroyed, security audio recordings wiped."

So whoever boarded and took Sabé didn't want to be caught or found. Obi-Wan nodded vexed understanding, then glanced at Typho for a long beat. The man appeared similarly apprehensive and distressed by all this to the queen and Zana. His feelings were radiating off of him loudly: fear, distress, worry, helplessness. "She's a good friend of yours, isn't she?" Obi-Wan asked. He remembered seeing them talking several times after the battle of Naboo.

Typho nodded, a jaw in his muscle jumping. "I've known her close to ten years now." His voice lowered and he swallowed. "Do you think they killed her, Master Kenobi?"

A question that Obi-Wan had asked himself too. He thought about it again then shook his head. "If they were going to kill her outright, they would have done so in the ship." He paused, trying to access the Force for more clarity about what happened here. None came, all he could sense was Typho's worry. So Obi-Wan went with deduction. "No. They wanted something else." The question was, what? Something far more sinister, more than likely. Knowledge that turned his feelings sour and dark.

Feeling a sudden pull back toward where they'd come from, Obi-Wan went back to the galley area, focusing in hard on the sudden prick of guidance that was flitting around him. Following his feelings, he drifted forward to the tech-station lounge, then crouched down and put a hand down to the floor, slipping it into the small two-inch gap between the lounge and the ground. His fingers made contact with something and he grasped, fishing out a broken metal chain with a large, pointy tooth hanging from it.

"What's _that_?" Gregar asked, hanging back a few feet.

The same thing Obi-Wan was wondering. It was obviously a necklace of some kind, and it had been broken off of whoever wore it. Turning while crouched, Obi-Wan showed Gregar the object. "Was this something you saw the commander ever wear?"

The captain didn't look familiar with it at all, shaking his head and frowning hard. "No, never."

A clue. But to what, exactly? Obi-Wan stood up, rubbing a hand across his short, stubbled beard in contemplation. The tooth was distinct because along the back of it there was a crease: internal small sawlike patterns running up either side.

"I've never seen anything like that before," Typho said, coming to stand near Obi-Wan to better see the object better.

"Neither have I," Obi-Wan said, even as the obvious solution came to him. "…But I think I know someone who might have." He pulled out his commlink and tapped into the local broadcast, hailing all the way to Coruscant and hoping the hail would be answered. A few seconds passed. And then the connection was accepted and a little blue likeness of Dexter Jettster appeared. The Besalisk male grinned widely.

"Obi-Wan!" he greeted.

It was hard not to smile back at the jovial individual. "Hello Dex, many thanks for taking my call."

"You betcha!" Dex waved an extra arm and gave a thumbs up. "Whatcha need, buddy?"

Obi-Wan held up the tooth on the necklace to the receptor zone so that Dex would be able to see it. "Do you recognize this?"

The Basalisk's gaze narrowed and a hand came to stroke his gullet thoughtfully as another one scratched his head. "Hmm. Show me the other side?" Obi-Wan did and Dex made a decisive sound. "Well I'll be damned, that there's a Ronk tooth! Feline type animal with a very mean bite. Only lives on one planet."

Obi-Wan perked up. That could be quite a lead. "And what planet is that?"

"It's in the colonies. Called Cilpar. Not a very advanced planet so take extra batteries with ya." Dex chuckled. "What's this all about, huh? Lemme guess, Jedi business as usual?"

Obi-Wan smiled—his relationship with Dex was often on a need-to-know basis, but Dex never seemed to mind it. "Something like that," he replied. "I owe you a drink next time I see you, old friend."

Dex signed off with a flourishing hand gesture, something like a bow. "I'll be waiting, flyboy!" The transmission ended. Obi-Wan began heading off the ship, leaving Typho to hurry and follow.

Outside, Amidala and her entourage waited. Zana and Padmé looked expectant. "Your Highness, I may have a lead," Obi-Wan said, and their expressions both immediately showed relief and hope, which Obi-Wan raised a hand of caution to. "It could be nothing, but it's worth checking into."

"Excellent news, Master Kenobi," Padmé said. "Do you need any assistance from any of my people?"

Typho looked cagey, ready to burst into action. "I'm ready to go with you, just say the word," he said.

Obi-Wan regarded Typho with a neutral expression. "That won't be necessary, Captain Typho." He put his hands together, concealing them in his robe. "I first need to discover if there's any validity to this lead." He bowed again, signaling his departure. "I'll be in contact as soon as I know something."

"Please, Master Kenobi," Zana said, her voice struggling and eyes shining. "Bring my sister back."

Empathetic, Obi-Wan nodded once by inclining his head. "I will do my very best, Zana." He gave another nod to the queen.

"May your journey yield a safe recovery of our lost friend," Amidala said even as Obi-Wan turned and went toward his ship.

Watching him go, Zana whispered, "so we plead," to whatever gods listening.

* * *

**Nine Hours Later**

The Jedi fighter punched to a stop out of lightspeed, jetting to a smooth, slow approach of Cilpar. In front of Obi-Wan a mottled green planet waited, and he glanced at his readout. Atmosphere breathable, technology minimal—nearly nonexistent. He wondered if this were a wild Bantha chase. Hoping not—and trusting the instinct that he was on the right path—he took in a deep breath and began his approach. He leveled out and skimmed near the planet surface, taking in a lush and wild world beneath. He saw wooded areas and rivers winding through thick, tropical jungle. Waterfalls were set between huge craggy rock expanses, and he could see plains in the distance. Here and there, bits of stone ruins peeked through. He saw no roads or technology. If those things _were_ here, they were hidden. Even as he was waiting for the Force's guidance to direct where he landed, a sudden blast rocked his ship and alarms began to shrilly sound. _Ion canons—what the blazes_? He attempted to regain control, but the initial hit to his left wing had the ship going down, and fast. The jungle beneath was coming up fast, and contact was inevitable. "This is why I _hate_ flying!" he complained, then sighed irritably as he realized there was only one choice left at his disposal. He hit the eject button right before his fighter crashed into the jungle floor.

Landing lightly with a flip and a Force-assisted cushion, Obi-Wan remained in a semi-crouch for a couple beats, taking in his surroundings. Off about twenty yards, his fighter was a ball of flame and bent metal—useless and broken. _Well, I won't be leaving_ that _way._ Cilpar's air was humid, warm, and felt thick to breathe in. The tree canopy overhead was dense, causing what light got through to be very green on his skin and robe. The ground was full of low-growing ferns and rooted brush, with larger trees snaking upward toward the sky—vines hung down like ropes sporadically. Plants with leaves almost as large as Obi-Wan dotted the area. But that wasn't what took him aback the most: The massive lifeforce around him was utterly overwhelming. He could hear them—insects, birds, crawling things, rodents—and sense them too. Millions of beings, small and large, surrounded him. He turned in a slow circle, straightening up as he did so, contemplating his next move, trying to hear the Force through the din of life. A whisper called him forward, and setting his eyes on that direction, Obi-Wan left his destroyed fighter behind without a second thought. The Force always showed him the way.

For about thirty minutes, he worked his way into the jungle with only the Force as his guide, following it blindly. Stopping in a small clearing where the undergrowth was less, a now-sweating Obi-Wan wiped at his forehead with the back of his robe's sleeve and squinted around, pressing into the current where he could find the Force. Focusing proved hard with the loud abundance of lifeforce around him, so he closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, steadying himself. _Are you here?_ A question he sent searching out across the miles. He waited, listening. And then, a sudden spike of warning that told him to act _now_. Obi-Wan's eyes snapped open and he was already reaching for his weapon. It went flying out of his hand as something massive with barred teeth and a yellow furry face tackled him, a rattling roar emanating from its throat. Even as the weight hit him and he went down onto his back, his sides and vocal cords alike screamed in pain against the razorlike claws that dug in. With an incoherent shout, Obi-Wan used a burst of the Force to push the gigantic cat-like creature away and into a tree—the claws left slashes behind. He leapt up despite the pain, calling his lightsaber to come flying into his hand where he swiftly ignited it. His opponent was a large yellow cat-like creature with wickedly long teeth he recognized. A ronk, Dex had called this creature. At the sight of the weapon, the ronk's ears flattened against its head and it hissed, visibly considering how much it wanted to try attacking again. It decided not to and instead ran away, disappearing into the underbrush.

Breathing heavily now, Obi-Wan's shoulders relaxed and when he felt it was safe, he turned off his saber. He touched a hand to his side. Blood came away on his palm and he made a sound of pain. Wounds that would need attending to soon. They were painful and deep, causing him to grit his teeth. He pulled his robe around himself a little tighter, then continued on, once again following the trail that the Force was leading him down. This time however with his injuries, he felt less peace.

After about five minutes, the first feeling of dizziness hit and he stumbled, knocking loudly against a plant that rustled. The world dipped wildly, going parallel and making him reach out for balance, nearly falling over. He blinked twice, shaking his head as if that could fix his sudden disorientation. Did that ronk do something to him? Next to him, a plant shook, and Obi-Wan looked at it in confusion. And then a metal face with glowing greenblue eyes appeared. "Away, you scoundrel!" came a metallic shout, and suddenly, Obi-Wan was trying to fight off a protocol droid that was attempting very badly to bash him with a medium sized rock. Even as the droid's joints whirred and groaned at the motion of hitting the Jedi, sticks and rocks hit Obi-Wan, who held up two hands, fighting a dizzy feeling while he tried to see who was attacking him.

Sideways thanks to his current confused eyesight, she ran out from behind the rest of them: an athletically built brunette woman with a face he knew. "Stop, stop!" she shouted breathlessly, getting in between the ones throwing rocks and Obi-Wan. "This isn't an enemy!"

Three people he did not know and the droid stopped their primitive attack, then stood back, stunned and confused as Sabé Nebira, looking a little older, a little wilder, and pretty disheveled turned around to face Obi-Wan. She was wearing a utility flightsuit that had empty weapons holsters and had become covered in various rips, tears, and smudges. Her hair was pulled back messily from her face. Seeing her again, he realized he had forgotten her face, or it had become more hazy in his memories. He only had a second to take it all in, because she looked amazed to see him. "Obi-Wan!" She grinned and threw her arms around him in a spontaneous hug that lasted only a second before she drew back, gripping him on either shoulder with a perplexed expression. "What are you doing here?!"

He felt unsteady and a little mentally clouded, but somehow he was able to summon some classic Kenobi charm. "Well I'm… here to rescue you."

Her smile was back. "Great! Where's your ship?"

His air fell. "Uh—" that was right. "It's… well, it's completely destroyed."

Sabé appeared to be trying to follow his logic, and of all things, was almost amused, her head tilting to the side as her brows worked in together. She folded her arms. "So how exactly do you plan to rescue me then?"

Obi-Wan could only come up with one answer. "I'm… still working that all out."

She made an amused, perplexed face. One of the refugees, a young woman with blue designs tattooed onto her arms, face, and neck, took her mistrustful stare off of Obi-Wan. "Miss Sabé, who is this?" she asked quietly in a thick accent.

Sabé answered without taking her eyes off him. Her voice carried a certain kind of nostalgia to it that he recognized. "This is Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. An old friend of mine."

Obi-Wan found himself smiling back softly despite the distinct hot feeling of a fever coming over him.

"He's a Jedi!" another one of the refugees said—an older man perhaps in his sixties—he looked impressed and intimidated. Beside him, a teenage boy who looked scared out of his mind. They both also had blue designs tattooed onto their skin. The three people besides Sabé were dressed in clothing that reminded Obi-Wan of a tribe of scavengers he'd come across once.

"Please accept my apologies for attempting to bash your head in, Master Kenobi," the droid said.

"It happens more than you'd think," Obi-Wan said, earning a brief chuckle from Sabé.

Sabé indicated each person in turn—the woman with blue designs, then the older man, then the teenage boy. "Obi-Wan, this is Demi, Takk, and Yez. Oh, and DC-10." She became more serious. "The Nikto pirates who kidnapped me are running a trafficking establishment off this planet, selling people they take from small villages here as well as people they steal off of vulnerable defenseless ships. Like mine. We were all being held. We escaped their base, and now we're on the way to these people's village to seek shelter."

As he took the information in, he became more and more troubled. This was something the council should know of indeed. He struggled to think clearly. "Are others being held?" he asked.

"Not right now." She cast a watchful glance around. "We should keep moving, get to the village, and then make a gameplan from there." Obi-Wan nodded, wincing against a strange pangs associated with his wounds that were hidden beneath his robe. Sabé didn't miss his expression. "Are… you all right?" She seemed to look more closely then at his sweaty appearance and strange color.

Not wanting to worry anyone, Obi-Wan tried to dismiss the question. "Just feeling a bit off."

Sabé followed where his hand was pressing lightly into his side. She unceremoniously gave him a suspicious look and pulled his hand and robe away enough to see the angry red slashes and bloody tunic layers. Her eyes went wide. "A bit off?!" she exclaimed, her face a very interesting mix of worried, shocked, and indignant. "You're hurt! What happened?"

Obi-Wan stared silently into her waiting brown eyes, feeling another wave of heat that made his skin prickle, burn, and freeze all at the same time. He forgot what she had just asked.

"Did a Ronk do this?" The woman—Demi—asked, craning her neck a little to see the wounds. "Scratch you?"

Obi-Wan swallowed against a dry mouth. "Yes."

Demi shook her head, her expression giving away how dire it was. She turned directly to Sabé. "Poisonous. He'll soon be very sick." She motioned ahead. "We need to hurry to the village." She began to lead the way.

Obi-Wan swayed slightly. Sabé caught him by looping his arm over her shoulder so he was leaned at her side. He sent a weak, apologetic look her way. "Who's rescuing who, again?" she asked, putting an arm around his waist to help hold him up.

It was like no time had passed at all since he saw her last. He still felt the same connection of camaraderie between them. A dry chuckle rasped out as they began to move out. "You're never going to let me live this down, are you?" he asked, feeling drunk at this point. Everything felt unsteady.

"Well, first priority is making sure you live, Obi-Wan," she said, laboring under his weight but hiding it with a show of humor. "After that… I promise not to let you live it down."

He responded with an incoherent sound, his eyes beginning to droop. They slowly made their way, following Demi on an invisible path she seemed to know by heart. They continued on and on, and Sabé glanced at Obi-Wan with more and more anxiety as he became less and less coherent. "Demi, how much further?" she asked, gritting her teeth and groaning with exertion as she re-hoisted Obi-Wan's increasing weight against her.

"Not much," Demi said, then they all heard it at the same time. "What's that?" she whispered, stopping and looking upward with frightened eyes. The distant drone of an engine.

Breathing heavily, Sabé looked behind where they'd come—in some places, bent branches and leaves plus trod on underbrush had left a clear trail. Meaning they were about to have company. "Scout speeders," she hissed, then swore. They'd be here in seconds, and… "Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan!" he'd collapsed completely, and he was too heavy. She fell to the ground with him awkwardly.

"We don't have weapons!" Demi cried out. "We're dead!"

Sabé shook her head, her jaw set, mind creating a plan of action in seconds. Her voice was severe and deadly calm. "We're not dead yet." Without another choice, she snatched Obi-Wan's weapon off his belt and for the first time in her life, held a lightsaber. Even as she did, she jumped up and ran toward the sound of the approaching speederbike and shouted for everyone to get down, putting a little distance between herself and those who she traveled with. She held the weapon at her side, and her finger hovered over the ignition button on the lightsaber. She tried to control her heavy, short breaths to her advantage as every muscle tensed and her pulse pounded at full volume in her ears. Into sight came swerved two speederbikes piloted by helmeted Nikto: Fierce, reptilian creatures. The first biker in front spotted her and leaned forward, gunning his bike even faster to run her down. The bike following slowed a bit. Sabé stood waiting, her adrenaline singing and waiting for the exact moment. The engines grew louder and louder. She could hear a zealous cry of victory from the Nikto who thought he was about to run her over. Her muscles grew tenser and tenser, threatening to spasm. _NOW!_

She ignited the saber and dodged sideways hard, grabbing the hilt with both hands and letting a sweep of the saber slice weightlessly through the length of the speeder, causing pieces to go flying everywhere as it crashed. The other Nikto on the speeder behind the first one lost control and crashed into a tree.

Sabé was already sprinting toward the first pirate who had been thrown in his attempt to run her over. His leg was cut off at the thigh, but even as he howled in pain, he was reaching for his blaster. Sabé turned off the lightsaber as she ran, rolling herself in a tight ball to cover the last little bit of distance. The lightsaber blazed to life again as she unrolled into a single-leg kneel right in front of the opponent with the blaster. With a vicious, artless stab right into his chest, Sabé killed him. Aware that her second opponent was still a threat, Sabé was already grabbing the blaster from the Nikto she'd just killed. She jumped to her feet, lightsaber in one hand and blaster in the other as she whirled and made two killing headshots to the other pirate who had just stood and raised his weapon to fire on her. His body fell over heavily.

Silence again came over the jungle, except for the ambiance of insects and creatures.

Chest heaving, muscles still taut, Sabé breathed hard and fast, stunned at how fast and how close that had been. Shaken from adrenaline, she looked back at the ones she'd just protected, checking to make sure they hadn't been hit by flying debris. Obi-Wan was unconscious, and DC-10 was attempting to hide behind a tree that was much too narrow to accomplish any kind of protection. Demi and her brother and father stared with what looked like respect and fear. Sabé cut the lightsaber off and jammed it into the empty knife holster at her side, already hurrying back at a stride. Obi-Wan looked like he was dying. Not given even a moment to think, she began to haul the unconscious Jedi up, looking to the teenage boy for assistance. "Yez, help me carry him. We need to get him to your village, _now_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick shoutout to my reader Demi, she got a character named after her in this chapter :) FYI, I posted a little post of Sabé's costume, the location look, a photo of DC-10, and art of the ship Sabé was piloting onto the blog: hof-story dot tumblr dot com - look in the story guide tag.


	11. Fugitives

Deep in the heart of the jungle and right off of the Krek river stood the village of Ipoch'na. It was a wall-protected small gathering of thatched huts with spires, all built to surround the Hul'aki people's small but proud central stone temple. Fashioned to look like a giant face with the gaping mouth as the entrance into the structure, the temple was where Demi had rushed Sabé and Obi-Wan to once they arrived. The surprised villagers had all regarded the alien sight of two pale people and their shining droid with fearfulness and suspicion. Even as Yez had helped Sabé dump Obi-Wan's limp form onto a pallet on the temple floor, everyone who had been in the temple quickly left, disappearing not to be seen again.

Demi and Takk had left the temple to speak to village leaders, leaving Yez to help Sabé build a fire inside since night was falling. After the fire was built, Yez fetched some water in a bucket and then disappeared again. DC hung back, wringing their robotic hands in some kind of programmed show of anxiety.

The temple was small and dark inside, the floor dirt and the walls rough stone that had been hewn hundreds of years ago. Designs and pictograms were etched into every inch. The fire made shadows dance off the walls, almost animating the designs.

Obi-Wan laid unconscious on the pallet, moving around as if tossing in sleep, sweat pouring off of him as his face contorted and he made moaning sounds of pain. Sabé stripped him of his robe and tunic to get a better look at the extent of his injuries, worrying the entire time. Angry red, oozing clawmarks marred either side of his torso, and it looked worse than she'd expected. They needed medicine for this, the kind she knew was not available on this planet. Even if he survived the poison Ronks apparently carried, he was going to be fighting off a severe infection from these lacerations and definitely have trouble getting around. He made another pained moan. A sound that was very hard to hear and made her heart break. Trying to do something against the helpless feeling inside, Sabé set to work cleaning the wounds as best she could, using the bucket of water and ripped up pieces of Obi-Wan's tunic to dab at the wounds then dry them too. She kept the bucket of water reserved as clean just in case, only dipping clean pieces of tunic into it then tossing them aside once they were bloody.

"I feel so useless," DC-10 said mournfully. "If only I were a medic droid."

Sabé shook her head grimly, now pressing Obi-Wan's forehead with a cool rag to try and cool him down. "He didn't kill the first Sith in a thousand years to die from a cat scratch, DC," she muttered, speaking to the droid as much as she spoke to herself. "He'll pull through." A declaration she didn't feel sure of because of how sick he currently was. Sabé remained tense and anxious, feeling a myriad of worry, fear, and despair at Obi-Wan's condition. Where was Demi? Sabé was half a second away from going after her.

"One can only hope," DC replied, then the entrance to the temple grew dark as someone entered. "Oh!"

Sabé looked up to see Demi carrying a tray. "I've brought you food and drink."

With other things on her mind, even though she was unspeakably thirsty and hungry, Sabé didn't move from Obi-Wan's side. "Thank you, what about him?"

There had been mention of some kind of herb. Demi gave the tray to DC with no shortage of cautious distrust—she had feared the droid from day one—then came over and crouched down with Sabé, pulling out a twine wrapped bundle of dark leaves. She handed them over, giving Sabé a significant look. "Applying new leaves every hour will help draw out the poison."

Flooded by relief and hope, Sabé took the bundle gratefully and promptly began to rip a new section off of Obi-Wan's discarded tunic again to use as a way to bind the leaves against his skin.

"I… do have bad news," Demi said hesitantly, settling at the other side of Obi-Wan across from Sabé. "I tried to convince them otherwise, but the elders aren't… happy to have you here. They say you've brought a curse."

Sabé paused mid-rip. "A curse?"

Demi appeared incredibly apologetic. "My people believe the pirates stealing our people is an act of the gods. Judgment for our wrongs. And the timing of it is just… bad. They've never seen people who look like you before." She glanced over at DC-10. "Or whatever you said that thing is called."

DC-10, while possessing no facial features, managed to look extremely offended in that moment. "Thing?! I am a _protocol droid_ , thank you very much. The pinnacle of civilization and etiquette standards th—"

"DC, not right now," Sabé said a little more rudely than she meant. Leveling Demi with a very significant gaze, she tried to emphasis the dire nature of what was happening. "I understand what you're telling me, but if your people choose not to take an offensive fighting stance with these pirates, they'll take _all_ of you captive eventually."

Demi nodded, her expression troubled. "I know this. The problem will be convincing my people and our elders. Young people have little say here. Perhaps my father can persuade them better than I can. We don't know this… this… technology of yours and the pirates. It frightens my people." She drew a weighted breath. "Sabé, friend, you saved me and my brother and father. You helped us escape. That much, the elders understand. They'll let you stay the night only. In morning, you must leave."

Sabé felt deflated and her stress ramped up several more notches. Would Obi-Wan be conscious by then? Able to move himself around? And where the blazes would they go from here or get themselves off world? She stopped herself from going down that mental trail. It didn't matter, not right now. She would figure out the next move later on. "I understand." At least they had shelter for tonight. It would have to do. She returned to ripping tunic up and wrapping it around Obi-Wan's waist after pressing leaves into his wounds. Demi helped.

"Female Ronk carry the poison, not the males," the Hul'aki woman said softly, pausing to look at Obi-Wan's grave injuries. "Unlucky indeed." Another pause and then a guarded, curious question. "Who is he to you?"

Something about that question caused Sabé to stop what she was doing and look at Demi, gauging why she had asked that question in that particular way. Until just an hour ago, he'd been a memory. A hero to her people. Someone she wondered about often. Someone she'd once experienced very strong attraction to during a very volatile time. She couldn't say much with confidence except the following: "A friend."

Demi's expression gave little away, but her reply sounded like a challenge. "A very handsome friend."

Sabé wasn't blind and never had been—lit by the fire nearby and shining with sweat, he _was_ as handsome as ever, possibly more so than when she last saw him. He was beginning to grow a beard, and his hair was longer than it had been when she saw him last—so long that it flopped over his eyes a bit in a wild, unkempt manner. His strong jaw, cleft chin, and eyes were details her mind had never forgotten. Sabé glanced over and saw that Demi was eyeing him below the chin: His heaving chest, strong arms, and muscled torso. They _were_ surprisingly defined, not what Sabé had expected—the layers of tunics and robes he wore concealed quite the athletic, strong build. Something any red-blood male-attracted female could appreciate, however, this seemed a troubling time to be staring at his body without him awake to even know it was happening. Modesty and avoiding attention seemed to be pinnacles of Obi-Wan's character, and as such, Sabé knew instinctively that he would probably be quite self conscious to be ogled. So she pulled his robe up over him like a blanket for the moment, giving Demi a very steady, firm look that closed that particular branch of conversation: "Yes, a very handsome friend."

Demi took the unspoken cue and sat back, changing the subject after a short silence. "He seems strong. I think he will survive. If his fever breaks, we have hope."

Sabé nodded soberly, eyeing the leaves she had left over. Plenty for throughout the night. "What else can I do for him?" she asked. If it would give him a better chance, she would do it.

Demi was rising to leave. "Not much I'm afraid." She paused at the doorway. "Pray to whatever gods you worship."

Sabé's head canted to the side. "And if I don't worship any gods?"

Demi contemplated gravely. "Then I don't know." She glanced at Obi-Wan, then back to Sabé darkly. "I'll be back to check on you soon." With a swish of fabric, she was gone.

Obi-Wan's soft sounds of misery punctuated the sound of the cracking fire nearby.

"DC-10, program a reminder for every hour on the hour until morning," she said. "In case I fall asleep."

"Yes, Commander." DC-10 came closer and set the tray of food down onto a stone table as Sabé touched Obi-Wan's forehead again, which felt incredibly hot to the touch. She brushed a few hairs away that were stuck to his clammy forehead, then studied his familiar face while leaving her cool palm against his forehead. He relaxed a little under the touch, his pained expression softening as his muscles untensed. A bittersweet feeling tugged in Sabé's chest seeing him like this. How strange that he suddenly just dropped out of the sky and back into her life. And how awful that this had happened to him in his attempt to rescue her. She had questions about why _he_ was here in particular, who sent him, and if someone else knew he was here. If so, would they be mounting a rescue? And where was Anakin, his padawan? So many questions that would have to wait. With Demi gone now, Sabé pulled the robe off of him, seeming to recall that the best solution for a fever was to avoid overheating the person.

"Milady Commander, how _do_ you know this fellow?" DC asked curiously, gears whirring from micro movements.

Exhausted from the past couple of days—survival, imprisonment, escape—Sabé shook her head, eyes still soft on Obi-Wan. Talking was not on her list of things she could muster right now. "Long story, DC." She took one of Obi-Wan's hands and held it tight, murmuring just loud enough for him to hear: "Obi-Wan. _Fight this_."

She stayed by his side the rest of the night, lost in memories of their time together before and worry over his survival.

* * *

That night, Obi-Wan dreamed in a strange and nonsensical way, seeing scenes and objects that melted into each other in a psychedelic kind of way. He felt like he was on fire, prickled by heat and pain in every vein of his body. Something cool touched him from time to time, giving him relief that never lasted long enough. He heard a comforting sound, maybe a voice, that accompanied the touch. Dimly, he could feel himself reaching for the Force in a deep trance, seeking healing and restoration. After what felt like years, he felt less pain and became aware of a sound in the distance. In his dreams he turned to it curiously. What was that? A muffled call, and the ground was shaking. Then his ears began to understand: _Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan! You need to wake up now. Obi-Wan?_

Obi-Wan's first coherent feeling as he awoke was an immense feeling of being sore and wounded, but he was no longer burning up. He cracked his eyes open to a blurry world which he had to blink a few times to see clearly. The light of morning was filtering into whatever space they were in, and over him bent a familiar person whose face showed worry and hope at the same time. He felt his grimace soften as he remembered and recognized. "Sabé."

Her face relaxed into a relieved smile and her shoulders grew less tense. "There you are."

He remembered now: the Ronk attack, the strange disorientation he experienced afterward, then Sabé and her ragtag refugee group rescuing him when he collapsed. He faintly felt he had foggily seen Sabé with a lightsaber. _His_ lightsaber. Was that his dreams or had it actually happened? Obi-Wan evaluated himself: in one piece and alive, no shirt on, a makeshift bandage wrapped tightly around his torso, his robe covering him like a blanket. Pain radiated from both sides along his ribcage. His head was pounding too. He grunted and touched a hand to his head. "I took quite the turn, I gather."

She made a bit of a face that indicated that was putting it mildly. "Correct." She then pointedly looked to the left and he followed her gaze. A few stern older people holding spears with blue face tattoos were in the room and watching, and they did not look welcoming. Obi-Wan quickly understood even before she said anything. "Listen, I'd love to catch you up on everything but the villagers want us to leave," Sabé explained, patting him on the shoulder then handing him a light gray tunic he didn't recognize. "So we better go, before they get… stabby."

Obi-Wan nodded, knowing he would learn more about what was happening later. "I see." He made to sit up, grimacing as he did against the physical difficulty of doing so. Sabé hauled him up by the crook of his arm to a full seat and helped him when he struggled to put the shirt over his head. Under the watchful eye of the elders present, she assisted him to stand and then they walked out together, followed by DC-10, who was mumbling something about "rushing us off like this."

Outside, Demi waited with a spear and a pack, and she offered both to Sabé. "It's not much, but I hope these things help." Behind her, more villagers huddled in groups, looking at the Jedi, Commander, and droid in mistrust. Demi walked with them to the village exit, a pulley-system gate. Spiked trees lined the top of the wall that closed in the village. "Good luck to you," she said in farewell as they reached the exit and the gate drew up at two watchmen's work.

"And you, Demi," Sabé said, shouldering the pack. She grasped the younger woman's shoulder briefly and spoke lowly. "Watch yourselves." Demi nodded somberly, and with a final grim glance at the village, Sabé led Obi-Wan and DC-10 into the unknown jungle beyond.

* * *

The noise of the jungle was quite overwhelming. Teeming with life, the atmosphere was thick with the low hum of insects, the calls of birds, the sounds of movements of small and large animals alike, and the distant, ominous bellows of larger beasts. With the village behind them, Sabé led the way, using the quiet roar of the river to lead them onward. Gigantic trees and bushes surrounded them, their leaves littering the jungle floor in between ferns and a creeping ivy-like plant. The air was warm and dense, promising to make the travelers sticky and sweaty as they trekked onward.

"That village needs a protocol droid, the lack of etiquette and hospitality is frankly outrageous!" DC-10 complained.

Sabé and Obi-Wan walked in stride together a few steps ahead of the droid. "I take it we were seen as a liability?" Obi-Wan asked. He was having to move a little slower than usual because of his injuries.

"Something like that," she said, shaking her head and muttering almost to herself. "Absolute faith corrupts the mind just as much as absolute power." Obi-Wan looked curious and waited for an explanation which came once she saw his expectant look. "They think the pirates are some kind of act of god. And that our presence was bad luck, essentially." Short on sleep and full on stress, Sabé was already onto her next thought: "You know now that we're aware of the trafficking situation we have to do something about it, right?"

"Of course," Obi-Wan replied readily. "I plan on reporting these pirates and their base here to the council as soon as I can." Her expression must not have been too approving because he hesitated. "…Do you have a different idea?"

Sabé evaluated for a moment. Yes, she had different ideas but didn't want to be misunderstood about her urge to act quickly. "I only fear that waiting on procedure in this case will result in people disappearing off this planet and into slavery forever. Who _knows_ where these Nikto bastards take the people they 'export' from here."

"A very valid concern," Obi-Wan conceded. "What alternative do you have?"

Sabé didn't have to think about it. "Blow them to smithereens." Frustration set in. "With all the bombs and cannons I don't have."

Obi-Wan appeared unsure if he should be amused or concerned. "While we're on the subject of weapons, did I dream it or did you… use my lightsaber?"

Immediately chastened, she was self-conscious. "That _did_ happen." She winced briefly in his direction. "Sorry, I didn't really have another choice in the moment."

Obi-Wan seemed to have little reaction. "Consider it forgiven." He wiped at his forehead, which was growing sweaty again, but this time from the humidity of the Cilpar air. He was thinking hard and hesitating about asking something. "They didn't… hurt you did they?"

She understood the implication. "No," she answered truthfully, but she was sure they weren't above what Obi-Wan was getting at. "They only pissed me off."

Obi-Wan smiled ever so softly and nodded conspiratorially. "That certainly doesn't bode well for them."

Sabé glanced his way, trying to hide a smile, remembering now very clearly now how easy their back and forth was. He had a way of giving her compliments without saying anything directly and making her feel understood in a way that lifted her spirit naturally. It was hard to place a finger on what exactly drew her to him, but even here and now, she felt herself being drawn in again. Taking in a deep breath and refocusing herself, she rehoisted the pack she carried and felt the spear that she carried on her back shift slightly too. After checking the pack to see what it contained, she'd seen that Demi gave them some food, water, and firestrikes. All things that could be very useful here, especially the spear. She glanced over at Obi-Wan again, studying him closely and trying to evaluate his overall wellbeing. He looked tired and it was also strange to see him in a Jedi robe with a plain tunic underneath instead of the multiple layers of a Jedi's traditional garb. His struggle through the night had exhausted them both. "How are you feeling, Obi-Wan? You gave me quite the scare last night."

He thought for a second, visibly evaluating his own current condition. "I feel drained and sore, but I'll survive." He looked over at her, the same curious concern she felt for him mirrored in his eyes. "And you, Milady?"

She was honest with a dim, non-humored laugh. "Exhausted as kriff. But I'll survive."

He appeared sympathetic. "Thank you. For staying at my side." The way he said it made her feel a certain way that was hard to ignore, and she attempted to sidestep it by smiling thinly and avoiding looking back at him. A distant sad looning call echoed, causing them both to look upward and around, reminded of how out in the open they were. After a moment's pause, Obi-Wan looked at Sabé with a slight frown. "Where _are_ you leading us, anyway?"

"Back to the pirate's base." His eyebrows raised up high and Sabé shrugged. What else did he possibly think they could do? "Have you got a better idea? They're the ones with a way off this place." Having been to their base, which was in some old ruins, she knew they were using a cave as their hangar, and she had a small plan in mind: sneak in, steal a ship, get the hell off this world. But probably not before inflicting some major damage. Obi-Wan did visibly concede she was right, but she already knew that. There wasn't another option as of this moment. A few beats of silence passed as they continued to pick and duck their way through a thicker section of foliage and vines. "So where's Anakin?" she asked conversationally as they came out the other side. "Is his still your apprentice?"

 _That_ question garnered a very distinct reaction from Obi-Wan. "Oh yes," he chuckled darkly then sighed lengthily. He sounded like a tired parent. "He's currently being held in the intensive care unit at the temple. He broke just about every bone in his body during a particularly absurd stunt involving some Rodians and a Wookie."

Sabé was intrigued and felt like she knew that kind of scenario well. Not that Zana was a daredevil, but she did have her moments. "Sounds like you have your hands full."

"Yes," Obi-Wan agreed. "This break is nice."

 _What?_ He got quite the look for that one as well as a disbelieving, growing grin. "You got attacked by a rabid Ronk, almost died from the poison, are critically injured, currently have no way off this planet… and you're _enjoying_ yourself?"

Obi-Wan spread his hands in huge shrug, a devilish little trolling smile playing on his stubbly face. "I needed a vacation!"

Sabé chuckled, then glanced back at her droid. "His sense of humor is intact, must mean survival is imminent."

DC-10's head swiveled slightly one way then the other, as if thinking. "I don't follow your meaning, Commander."

"As usual, DC," Sabé sighed. She tilted her head to the side in thought, eyeing Obi-Wan again. "Who sent you here after me, anyway?"

She had anticipated the answer already: "Queen Amidala. She contacted me directly asking for assistance." But not the following sentence: "I saw your sister when I went to Naboo. She's quite worried."

A pang of guilt and heaviness struck Sabé. "I'm sure," she said quietly, urgency to escape renewing inside her all over again. "All the more reason to get off this blasted planet quickly." She thought quickly for another moment. "Will Naboo be sending rescue?" Maybe they only needed to wait, not storm the pirate's base.

Obi-Wan sounded unconfident. "I'm not sure. Typho knows the planet I went to, at the least. One could assume, _eventually_ yes."

Eventually wasn't going to do much for them. "Perfect," she muttered. "Those wounds of yours are going to need bacta sooner rather than later."

Obi-Wan dismissed that. "I'll be fine."

She gave him a reproachful look. "Not forever, you won't be. What's your pain level right now?"

He opened his mouth to reply. "It's—"

The second that word came out of his mouth, they both unfortunately stepped onto what looked to be a portion of jungle floor, but in fact, was huge leaves laid carefully to conceal a hole. With a couple of shouts of surprise, they both fell in and hit the bottom hard as leaves and vines from overhead crashed down onto them.

Pain blossoming in her ribs, knee, and shoulder from the impact of fall, Sabé squinted upwards to see they'd fallen about fifteen feet down into a very large and crudely dug hole. "Oh my! Oh dear!" DC-10 exclaimed, peering down and waving their arms around in distress. "Commander, look out!" _Look out? Wasn't it too late for that after falling in?_ Even as Sabé stirred, pushing herself up to arm's length off the ground, she went totally still as she saw that on the opposite end of the hole, about ten feet away, there were two huge problems. Beside her, Obi-Wan was also stirring, groaning pathetically against no doubt a doubled pain from falling onto his injuries. She grabbed onto his arm hard.

"Obi-Wan…?" she whispered. " _Don't make any sudden moves_."

Across from the two fallen humans were two huge, if scrawny looking yellow animals with glinting teeth and shining eyes. Their tails whipped back and forth, as if they were preparing to pounce. One of them let out a spine-curling rattling growl. "Oh dear," Obi-Wan said softly, and the two of them exchanged a dire glance.

They had just fallen into some sort of trap. A trap that contained two _very_ hungry looking Ronks.


	12. More Complications

"Obi-Wan…? _Don't make any sudden moves._ "

"Oh dear."

At the bottom of a roughly-dug fifteen foot deep hole, the two wounded people were frozen where they'd fallen, looking across the bottom of the hole at the two scrawny yellow Ronks opposite them. The large felines hissed and growled, barring their teeth and switching their tails, eyeing up the easy prey that had just fallen from the sky.

"You've fallen in!" DC-10 uselessly shouted down from above, waving their gleaming metal arms around in a show of distress. "What do I do? Oh no!"

Panicking internally because it was immediately apparent that any second they could be mauled to death, Sabé heaved ragged breaths as pain from falling screamed through her shoulder, knee, and ribs as DC-10 carried on in the background. _Think, think. Obi-Wan has a weapon, can he fight them off?_ _Can I even get to my spear in time?_

Then Obi-Wan did the strangest thing. Slowly he stood, taking a single step to put himself between Sabé and the threat. He didn't take eyes off the animals the entire time. A hand was raised out toward the Ronks, and the air seemed to grow quieter, seemed to hum with energy. Without understanding, Sabé still understood: Obi-Wan was using the Force to hold them back. "Come here," Obi-Wan said quietly, and even though she had no idea what he was planning, Sabé managed to painfully get to her feet and take a limp over to him where he had an arm out. Confused at the gesture, she hesitated. "Hold onto me." _Hold onto him?_ It was a very choice moment to feel self-conscious, but even as she moved close to him and grabbed on gingerly, even as his free arm held her close at the waist, she was struck by feelings of nervousness to be so close.

His arm tightened around her, his body tensed, and she could sense that he had to work very hard against his physical pain from his previous injuries to do what he did next. He jumped—with the most incredible burst of speed that Sabé could imagine. His other arm came to hold her tightly too. She clamped on hard to him even as they shot upward at a velocity that a human couldn't accomplish. Obi-Wan's Force-hold on the Ronks broke and they leapt forward in a failed attempt to sink their claws in.

Obi-Wan and Sabé landed softly up top on solid ground in a soft, cushioned way that Sabé hadn't totally expected. She did not let go immediately, loosening her grip enough to stare Obi-Wan in the face and regain her equilibrium. They were the kind of close that immediately made her think about certain things, despite all the pain, discomfort, and general hopelessness of the situation. She swallowed thickly, feeling how rapid her heartbeat was. Could Jedi read minds? Could he sense what she was thinking?

"Oh goodness, thank the stars you got out of there!" DC-10 declared loudly. Neither paid the droid any mind.

"Now we're even," Obi-Wan said softly, his arms relaxing away from her but still holding loosely for a span of a few breaths.

It was as if there was a spell in that certain moment. She hadn't a clue what he was talking about—all she could comprehend was his brilliant blue eyes that were locked with hers. "W-what?"

The sardonic sense of humor she remembered him for emerged. "As far as rescues go." He cracked a roguish grin, loosening one arm but keeping her supported with the other.

"Ah." Feeling heat in her cheeks, neck, and chest, Sabé was primly playful to try and cover her sudden flustered state. "We'll see." She tried to remember the last time she'd felt so discomposed like she did at that second.

Obi-Wan was businesslike though, in the most casual and pleasant of ways. "We're both quite banged up now, aren't we?" he asked. "Can you walk?" He saw the way she held her leg gingerly without any weight on it. She made a doubtful sound, craning her neck to try and see the extent of damage done. He helped her over to a nearby fallen tree that was large enough to serve as a bench. Putting any weight onto her injured leg sent shooting pains throughout her entire body, so she limped and depended on Obi-Wan's help to move. Once she sat, he knelt in front of her, examining the wound carefully. She had a hard time not noticing his closeness again. "Hmm. Not broken outright, but possibly micro-fractured," he concluded, a thoughtful hand stroking the stubble on his chin.

 _Kriff. Just what they needed._ "Hit a rock I think," Sabé said through gritted teeth, seeing a deep gash right on the kneecap and shouldering the immense pain. It hurt more every passing moment—a combination of deep bruising from impact and the cut itself. _Of all the bad luck to have._ Obi-Wan had a focused, attentive expression as he surveyed the wound a bit more then began to rip off a long piece of his tunic to bind it with. Touched by his actions, Sabé watched him quietly a couple of moments. "Weren't you just saying this was an enjoyable break for you?" she finally prompted, a halfhearted attempt to lighten the mood.

He chuckled darkly and briefly, eyes still on his work. "I've changed my mind." Free to look at him without being seen, Sabé's eyes lingered on his face. He had a humble sort of handsomeness to him that in moments was startlingly striking and profound. But more than his appearance, she was drawn to how he was gentle. Thoughtful. A mystery she would quite like to know more about. With care, he wrapped and tied her knee enough to stop the bleeding. One of his hands—warm, strong feeling—held her thigh in place as he did it, and that was difficult not to dwell on for her. "How far would you say we are from the pirate's base?" he asked as he finished up.

She cleared her throat and shook her head, letting other thoughts go in favor of dread. "Three miles maybe." She'd shouldered injuries before, and would do what she could, but she was realistic enough to realize that this specific injury was really going to slow them down. Risk assessment was already flying through her mind as far as being out here in the open. Both of them wounded, both less than full capacity. Low supplies, no clean water access except what Demi had given them, and Sabé had been stripped of all her weapons and first aid. Three miles would take half the day at best. All day or more at worst. "I think I'm going to have severe problems walking, Obi-Wan."

He smiled easily, his eyes almost twinkling like he already knew what to do. "Not to worry, my friend." He patted her uninjured knee. "But first, I must do something." He rose then and left Sabé to watch him, wondering.

He went to the edge of the hole where DC-10 remained, photoreceptors taking in the pacing and growling Ronks below. "What _is_ this hole, Master Kenobi?"

A thoughtful silence. "I believe it's a trap the villagers—or another nearby village—created," Obi-Wan theorized. "They've weaponizing these animals against their enemies." He looked around then selected another fallen tree nearby and in a show of incredible power, focus, and strength, he moved it with the Force, gently placing it like a straw into a drink down into the hole. He stepped back a few feet even as the Ronks climbed out. In the light of day, they were even more underfed than they'd appeared at first glance. One of the Ronks immediately ran away into the jungle underbrush, but the other one remained for a second, a low growl emanating from its throat as Obi-Wan maintained eye contact, positioned between the wild animal and Sabé. The Ronk then retreated with a lash of its tail into air, crashing sounds in the foliage fading as it fled far away.

Obi-Wan returned to Sabé, whose small but curious frown prompted him to explain. "Jedi must honor all lifeforms whenever possible. They were imprisoned. Now their fate is their own again." Her expression softened. She hadn't quite thought of it that way. Without any transition, he reached for her hand to help her up. Sabé took it and got up, all her weight on her good leg. She remained vastly curious and puzzled as to whatever his plan was. Then he took his robe off with a graceful swirl, further confusing her. He neatly folded the garment up and put it into the pack Demi had given them, which Sabé still carried. She watched him without understanding at all. Then he surprised her even more with his next instructive: "Now. Hop on."

She almost did a double-take at the command, and thought she misheard. "…' _Hop on_ '?" she repeated incredulously.

"Have you got a better idea?" he challenged. He gave her an expectant look and turned around, presenting his back to her. In turn, Sabé's facial expressions went on quite the journey: from disbelief, to confounded and insulted, to realization that he was absolutely serious and had a point, to something like defeated reluctance. _Not_ a situation she had anticipated. It seemed undignified somehow to ride the back of a Jedi the way schoolchildren liked to carry each other around in moments or horseplay, but the alternative was hobbling around with the spear that Demi had given her as a staff. Sabé also wondered about his injuries, but supposed she _was_ lightweight enough that he could carry her without too much pressure from her knees digging into his ribs. Either way. She was embarrassed at herself for getting hurt, but very aware she couldn't make it far in her current condition. So given no other real options, she unhappily accepted her fate.

"This just keeps getting more and more bizarre," she mumbled, circling her arms around his neck from behind and then letting out a frustrated breath before jumping. His arms hooked around the back of each knee and she grimaced hard—any movement caused her knee so much pain. But otherwise, it was all good.

"Shall we?" Obi-Wan asked breezily, giving the impression that this was entirely normal.

And so they did.

With DC-10 following, Obi-Wan carried Sabé without complaint using the nearby river as their guide toward where the pirate's base was. After about thirty minutes, Sabé began to suspect Obi-Wan was using some sort of Force-influenced ability to carry her without breaks. She could feel that he was breathing hard, but he didn't ever seem to tire. Or maybe he was just in that impressive of fitness level. Respect grew, even as her ego remained embarrassed.

Obi-Wan asked her questions about the pirates along the way:

How many of them? About twenty.

Did they have multiple ships? Yes, she'd counted five smaller and one larger one.

What weapons did they have? She'd noticed blasters, knives, and electrostaffs.

What was the base general layout? It was in an abandoned old religious site that was carved into the side of a mountain by the river. A cave was there in the side of the mountain and a passageway provided access if a ship wasn't flying directly into the cave.

Was it possible to tell how long they'd been on this planet? Not long from the looks of the way they were squatting.

After those and a few more questions, they remained quiet. After awhile, Sabé rested by laying her head against Obi-Wan, letting a cheek press into the fabric it found. The rhythm of his steps, the ambient sound of the jungle, and the steady whir of DC-10's gears almost made her feel like she could doze off. Last night's lack of sleep was starting to catch up with her. As she drifted mentally, she found herself wondering about Obi-Wan in a more personal way as her head rested on him like that. She knew Jedi were forbidden attachment and many of them remained strictly celibate, only touching and being touched in businesslike, necessary ways. Had Obi-Wan ever been given to romantic notions? In her view of him, he seemed by-the-book and it didn't totally fit that he would be one to pursue a love affair or indulge in casual sex. Although when she thought back to when she knew him last, some moments always seemed to feel romantically leaning to her. Perhaps her memory was foggy and her bias—that old crush of hers—was influencing the way she remembered things. She remained undecided.

Finally, they reached a bend in the river where a large stone head was carved into the mountainside that steeply shot up out of the more quickly-moving water. Beneath the huge stone facial features, a cave mouth was visible.

"I assume that's the place," Obi-Wan said. They had stopped while still well-concealed inside the shade of the jungle. Sabé confirmed, and Obi-Wan finally set her down onto a rock formation. There she delicately stretched sore muscles and grimaced against new pain in her knee from moving again. She felt a fraction colder after losing the body-to-body warmth, even though it was hot in the jungle.

He was thinking, tapping a finger against his chin as his brow furrowed. "I'll scout ahead," Obi-Wan finally said, eyes on the close and seemingly quiet base. "Maybe I can steal a ship and come back for you two." He sent a glance to DC-10 and then Sabé. "Is that all right with you?"

Sabé's mouth was in a wan line. "I don't see another good option really."

Obi-Wan seemed to have a fraction of hesitation left, but her approval pushed him to ignore it. "Stay vigilant. I'll be back as soon as possible."

Sabé nodded and set to work trying to get a little more comfortable on the rocks. She glanced around, assessing the situation as safe, then watched Obi-Wan steal through the jungle until no longer visible. She worried, and told herself worrying was no use.

"He is certainly very helpful," DC-10 said, and Sabé sighed long through a tired smile. Yes, helpful was a good word. She was just ready to get off this kriffing planet before something else went wrong.

"Your gears okay, DC?" she asked, trying to assess her droid. She'd never been the droid type, then had been given one soon after becoming a commander. It was true what they said: every droid had its own distinct personality quirks. Sabé was still learning DC's all these years later.

"Oh yes Milady Commander. I do look forward to getting all this dust and dirt off my casing, though."

Sabé gave a soft little genuine laugh. "You and me both." Just then, she heard a twig snap, and immediately she knew something was absolutely wrong. Pulse hammering, she made to get up into a crouch as fast as possible and grab her spear, trying to figure out where the sound came from even as DC gave a startled little sound. And then Sabé heard a sound like _tttwwwipt!_ and felt a sudden prick in her neck. Hand flying to slap the skin there, she found an object and pulled it away. Even as her vision swam and began to fade, she saw a dart—poison or tranquilizer, she had no way of knowing—and she let out a soft helpless sound because her vocal cords no longer seemed to function. _Obi-Wan!_ Her last thought before the darkness swallowed daylight whole.

* * *

Obi-Wan had been creeping closer to the riverside cave under the cover of trees and foliage to get a better sense of how many pirates were holed up when a startlingly clear voice rang out across a plane that wasn't physical: _Obi-Wan!_ He immediately turned around, all but at a run, trying to be as quiet as possible. When he could sense significant sized lifeforms ahead, he slowed down and remained watchful, creeping close to assess the situation. He saw about ten Nikto pirates, and one of them was holding an unconscious Sabé like a sack of hubba gourds.

A bipedal humanoid species of intimidating size and strength, Nikto were reptilian in appearance and had subspecies variation. Some had facial horns, some had facial fins, and their leathery skin could be red, green, or brown. Obi-Wan saw that these particular Nikto were various colored skins and facial features, but they were _all_ armed to the teeth and he was vastly outnumbered, especially if he wanted to ensure no harm came to Sabé in a rescue attempt. _Blast._ He watched DC-10 be prodded along with arms up and Obi-Wan thought hard for a long couple of tense seconds. His anxiety had increased incredibly, and he was briefly kicking himself for the lapse in judgment of leaving Sabé behind as frustration set in at the odds stacked against him. These were all feelings and thoughts that would not serve him or allow him to hear the Force as clearly. Maybe he'd underestimated these pirates. A bit rashly, he did not center himself or respond to the situation at hand—he reacted. He decided to attempt to beat the pirates back to the entrance of their fortress to gain some semblance of an upper hand, or perhaps take them by surprise.

Obi-Wan began a rushed, quiet race against the Nikto then, his heart hammering harder than it should.


	13. Connection

Under the bright light of midday, the group of Nikto males approached the jungleside passageway, which was a large roughly hewn hole into the side of the mountain. They forced the gleaming protocol droid ahead of them as another pirate carried the still-unconscious woman roughly over his shoulder like a sack.

Obi-Wan watched their approach from his quickly-found hiding spot—a rock formation up a bit higher on the face of the mountain just to the left of the passageway. He was still out of breath from his hurry to beat them here, and his mind did not feel calm. His hand clenched into the rock hard as his pulse hammered violently in his veins. He felt distinctly off in the way he was approaching this situation. He didn't have time to dwell on it though, because he was faced with two choices and had to act quickly.

Choice one: bide his time and enter the fortress after the group did, sneaking in to break Sabé out at some point in time from wherever they took her. This option would mean she went out of his sight though, and he didn't know for how long—that made him uneasy. What if they were about to board a ship with her? What if they were about to meet up with more pirates, therefore outnumber Obi-Wan even more? He couldn't know their next move, and that was a risk.

Choice two: confront them immediately and hope for the best. The risk with this decision was also very great.

Given no time to decide, and too emotionally charged to seek the will of the Force, Obi-Wan threw caution to the wind.

With a decisive breath in and his gaze on Sabé's limp form, he stood and stepped out from where he'd been concealed. He dropped about twenty-five feet down, landing softly in front of the pirates, who immediately stopped moving forward and trained all their weapons onto him. His plan forming as he went, the Jedi Master addressed the one who seemed to be in charge—a red Nikto bristling with facial horns. "Drop your weapons and release the woman and droid to me," he said calmly.

Looking him up and down, pausing on the lightsaber, then sneering, the pirate laughed harshly. "Release my prisoners?" he asked, eyes narrowing wickedly. "And just what's all _one_ of you gonna do about it, _koochoo_?" _Well,_ Obi-Wan thought. _It had been worth a try at least._ The pirate took his blaster and went a couple steps backward and held the barrel of it against Sabé's temple menacingly. Obi-Wan's chest tightened in response to seeing an unarmed and unconscious Sabé threatened like that—a feeling that tempted him to spring into careless action. He remained still, but it was surprisingly hard. "You drop _your_ weapon," the pirate commanded. Obi-Wan took a long beat to consider, then complied by carefully unclipping his entire belt, lightsaber included, and letting it drop to the ground. The pirates closed in on him immediately, their blasters or vibrostaffs close enough to touch in some cases. There were of course things Obi-Wan could do to fight them off and defend themselves. But he had decided now to go with plan three: get captured right along with Sabé and DC-10. He was going to need Sabé's help in escaping, or at the very least her consciousness. The ringleader picked up Obi-Wan's belt, plucked the lightsaber off, then flung the belt away, keeping the weapon for himself gleefully. "That's what I thought. _Jedai kung_."

The ringleader approached him aggressively, attempting to intimidate. Obi-Wan stood his ground, knowing what was likely to happen next. When he didn't cower or wilt away, when he maintained steady eye contact, the pirate backhanded him brutally, causing pain to scream across Obi-Wan's temple and part of his forehead—the pirate wore spiked gloves. Vision gone temporarily bright and blurred, Obi-Wan felt himself double over and then get yanked along with the group and into the darkness of the cave. He steadied himself internally, focusing on his breathing.

The Nikto talked to each other in a language that wasn't Basic, then laughed together briefly. Obi-Wan took note of everything they passed as well as he could, a tense glance darting Sabé's way every few moments. They went down the long damp passageway and into a huge, natural-light lit cave—the same one Obi-Wan had seen from a distance. This was obviously their makeshift hangar bay—a few ships were docked and there was an area that seemed to be a living space—a long wooden table and chairs was visible, as well as barrels and crates of supplies, a few hammocks strung up, and general mess of living sloppily. These pirates had been here long enough that they'd also carved a gigantic skull and crossbones into the far cave wall.

The prisoners were taken into a smaller, dripping cavern just off of the main cave. There, they were all but thrown into a large rusted metal cage. A pirate activated a button on a handheld remote he carried, and a gigantic pink bubble activated over the entirety of the cage.

"Oh no, _ray shields_!" DC-10 exclaimed in what was probably distress.

Obi-Wan noted the observation, but was currently re-arranging a limp Sabé from a crumpled up, tangled heap on the ground and into a laying down pose that wouldn't hurt her limbs later. Thankfully, her breathing was fine and he didn't see new injuries. Her head lolled to the side as he finished repositioning her, and loose hair became strewn across her eyes and forehead. Obi-Wan hesitated, then cautiously traced a couple fingers across her skin, moving the hair aside for her, his eyes and fingertips lingering on a face that could have been sleeping. Even under the lightest touch of his fingers to her skin, he felt the same connection he'd felt years ago on Tatooine, and it caused him great pause. He didn't understand it, but it was there all the same: warm, alive, curious, beseeching him to pursue. In itself, the connection wasn't something to be afraid of. It was something else that stirred that caution in him, and he couldn't quite name or place it. Feelings. Feelings that were unfamiliar and large that he had no idea how to navigate. Feelings that took up a space inside of himself that he didn't recognize. It was strange to notice that even though her jumpsuit and jacket were torn and dirty, even though her skin and hair were dingy, she appeared just as beautiful to him as she'd been on that balcony during the celebration three years ago in Theed. Noticing his thoughts, his expression became more stern and he stood, attempting to refocus himself.

He paced the cage at a very calm, slow gait, a hand thoughtful on his chin as he turned his mind to the situation at hand and how to proceed. "DC-10, was that Huttese the pirates were speaking?"

The droid turned their attention to him, the static face showing no emotion. "Correct, Master Kenobi, it was Huttese."

"What did they say?"

"They were talking about how this woman cost them a month's work releasing fifty captives—"

Obi-Wan's eyebrows jumped up. " _Fifty_?" he repeated. "Are you sure? I counted five of you."

"Oh yes, I'm quite sure," DC-10 replied. "There were forty-five others from other local villages held captive, and we were all due to be shipped offworld to be sold the next day. The Commander let everyone out during early morning sleep. Lady Demi was the only one who offered us a place to go." The droid indicated Obi-Wan look, using a shining arm.

Obi-Wan followed the gesture and saw another cage off in the corner of the cavern—only upon close inspection, it had a number of broken and bent bars from what looked like blaster fire and sheer human willpower. Sabé's doing, he deduced. And the reason behind why these ray shields were apparently new to DC-10—a security measure put in place after Sabé had ruined their export. "I see," he commented quietly, a mixture of respect and surprise stirring in him.

The droid was continuing on. "They also said and, the slang was difficult to interpret, but I believe they want to achieve some kind of revenge upon her." The droid's head tilted slightly to the side. "Is your injury giving you much trouble?"

Obi-Wan touched fingers to the wound he'd sustained on his forehead. Warm blood met his fingertips, but it wasn't the deepest cut he'd ever had. It was more a very painful nuisance than anything else. "Not to worry, DC-10. I'll be fine." He saw Sabé stir a bit, just a slight head turn and grimace. He immediately crouched down at her side and touched her shoulder, watching her open her eyes woozily and then become confused. Then her eyes came to him and her expression relaxed a little. "Are you all right?" he asked softly. Her expression changed, eyebrows working in toward each other.

She didn't answer him, and he felt a large flare of concern emanate from her. "You're _hurt_ ," she said, eyes on his forehead and voice full of a worry—her concern and care seemed to reach through his chest and touch him softly there, causing an ache.

Obi-Wan shook his head. "It's nothing," he assured her gently, given over to a feeling of tenderness. "Can you sit up?"

She nodded and groaned as she began to get herself up, then took his assistance as he helped her. Once seated, she gaped up at the pink bubble that went over their heads, noticing their doubly-complicated dilemma. "Are those ray shields?!" she asked, then groaned in frustration.

"They've doubled their security measures since our last escape," DC-10 noted somberly, watching from a few feet off.

Sabé heaved a very heavy sigh, a hand rubbing her face tiredly as Obi-Wan helped her settle her back against the bars near her. "What a disaster," she muttered.

Obi-Wan, however, disagreed. "There's no need to worry," he said, giving her a small smile. "Have patience—we'll make our move once they transfer us someplace else. Or when a guard comes by." After having seen the pirates space, he had a plan.

Sabé, however, looked a tic doubtful. "So… we wait," she surmised slowly.

Obi-Wan nodded. "All you need to do is trust me," he promised, then nodded to indicate her knee. "Let me see your injury."

She did, watching him with dark, full eyes. The cavern dripped, the echos of the water droplets echoing throughout the cool cavern. "What happened, anyway?" she asked as he carefully unwrapped what he'd wrapped earlier. "Last I remember was being in the jungle. Then nothing."

"Well… I attempted to rescue you," he replied, pausing to give her a good-humored look. "To even our score, of course."

That caused her to fight an entertained smile that played in her eyes and on her mouth too. "Of course."

"And it… didn't go so well," he said lightly.

Sabé matched his joking mood. "I gathered." Then she winced as he got closer to where the bandage touched tender skin.

With all gentleness, Obi-Wan pulled away blood-soaked fabric from the wound and Sabé visibly suppressed a reaction. Obi-Wan tried to keep her talking while he ripped off more of his tunic hem to bind the wound anew. "DC-10 tells me you freed fifty captives yesterday."

"Something like that," she confirmed with a tight expression, watching him rebinding her knee tight enough to compress without inhibiting her ability to bend her leg. "These pirates are evil." She frowned. "Where'd they put your lightsaber?"

"One of the ringleaders has it," Obi-Wan said evenly. "For now." And he did mean that.

"Bastards," she muttered.

DC-10, who had silently been watching until now, piped up. "I overheard them say they're going to get a restraining bolt and sell me to the highest bidder or strip me for my parts." If it were possible for a droid to sound worried, DC-10 did.

Sabé looked at her droid commandingly, almost crossly. "DC-10, that is _not_ going happen to you."

"I certainly hope not," the droid said, then their spindly finger components wrapped around the prison bars in front of them.

"I won't let it," Sabé said, and her tone left no room for argument.

Finished with re-bandaging her knee, Obi-Wan took a set beside Sabé, drawing his knees up so that he could rest his elbows on them. His mood was still light, jovial even. "Tell me, Commander," he prompted. "Is this what life's been like since I last saw you?"

Sabé gave him a look as if she'd misheard him. "Like _this_? No." She shook her head and smiled briefly, like it was funny, then her eyes grew thoughtful as she contemplated what life _had_ been like. "I was put in charge of the new recruit training program just after you left Naboo. Security forces saw a massive surge in new applicants after the battle." A humble shrug. "That and whatever other tasks or special assignments Amidala gives me keep me very busy." Her eyes remained distant, thinking of things Obi-Wan could only guess at. Reflective, she shook her head. "It hardly even feels like a few months have passed, let alone three years."

Obi-Wan felt himself agree internally, and _how_. "You _are_ right about that," he said. His senses, both Force and otherwise, observed that Sabé was conflicted. He hesitated, then asked. "Are you not… happy with the promotion?"

The question appeared to catch her off guard, then cause her to think and consider. "No I'm happy. Enough. I think." Her own answer visibly caused her some surprise. "Panaka and some others always viewed the advancement like I was handed something I didn't earn." She looked at him then, quiet guilt playing on her features. "And sometimes I agree." Obi-Wan felt his expression change to confusion at her statement, and she saw it then explained. "Going from Lieutenant to Commander overnight? That's not typical."

His reply came without any need for consideration. "And neither are you." Her expression was soft, touched. But he meant it. The circumstances had been anything but typical or expected. Sabé had been at the highest risk of anyone during the Naboo crisis, putting herself directly into the crosshairs in the decoy gambit—not only that, she and the Queen had singlehandedly formed, directed, and carried out the battle plan that had saved the entire planet. The promotion of rank was very well earned in his mind. But perhaps he was biased.

A soft, cynical smile played on her lips. "Tell that to everyone who resents me for it." She looked into mid distance again. "Their reactions made me work harder these past three years to prove myself. But people's minds are made up mostly. Zana graduates in just under two more years. Goes off to medic school." She paused, voice softening another notch. "I have half a mind to do something else with my life when that happens."

Obi-Wan studied her profile, so dimly lit in the cavern light. "And what would you do?"

She thought a moment, smiled suddenly, then gave him a joke answer: "Moisture farming." She cracked a grin even as he shook his head and looked down to conceal his own smile. A reminder of their adventure on Tatooine. "But enough about me" she said. "Tell me what life's been like for you?"

This was where Obi-Wan usually dodged and avoided. Talking about himself—his feelings, deeper thoughts, struggles—was not something he typically enjoyed. He preferred to keep those to himself in most cases. He tiptoed into answering in his classic way. He set up with his first sentence. "Well… training Anakin hasn't been as challenging as I anticipated."

"Oh?"

His punchline came next: "It's been about ten times much _more_ challenging." Which was the truth, but given in humorous context to offset the seriousness of it all.

Sabé grinned, having fallen for his little verbal game. "Ah," she nodded. "That sounds familiar." After thinking a moment, she peered at him. "He's thirteen now?"

Yes. Obi-Wan's smile faded, his gaze going somewhere vague. "And so stubborn," he replied momentarily, "So sure that he knows everything. So difficult to reason with sometimes." These were things he only shared with higher Council members. Sabé listened to him. "My only hope is that it's a phase," he said, darkening measurably because he wasn't optimistic. "A three year, no-end-in-sight phase."

Appearing sympathetic, Sabé shook her head ruefully. "Teenagers."

A curious statement. "Zana doesn't seem one of _those_ teenagers," Obi-Wan said. Not that he'd observed her for long, but her energy alone was clue enough. He just couldn't imagine Sabé's sister's eyes flashing in defiance or her throwing a fit or pouting over hurt feelings like _someone_ he knew.

"She's not," Sabé said. There was a certain tone and softness to her when she spoke of her sister. It was pride. It was love. "She's always been mature for her age." She put up a finger. "Don't misunderstand though. There's no shortage of problems and challenges when it comes to raising a child. I do imagine some situations are much more difficult than others." Obi-Wan nodded. If only she knew. Watching him closely now, almost unnervingly so, she gently prodded. It was like she _did_ know, or had an inkling of how hard it was sometimes. "Do you have support? Do you talk to anyone about it?"

Obi-Wan didn't know how to answer that. "And what would I say?" The Order had been full of mixed opinions when he took Anakin as his Padawan after Qui-Gon's death. Some of his most trusted allies had scorned Obi-Wan after it all. He didn't want to go into the detail. It was too painful. So he left it as: "I've faced much controversy over my decision to train him."

Sabé listened, thought for a couple of generous seconds, then looked at him with eyes that knew. "That would feel very lonely."

An observation that cut through him to the truth of the matter. So much in fact that a bundle of emotion caught in his throat. "It is," he admitted, equal parts relieved that someone understood this, and dismayed that he had revealed this vulnerable side of himself. But he didn't see judgment or anything close in his companion's eyes. Only understanding and care, trustworthiness. "How did you cope?" He asked her softly, because she had done almost the same as him, in so many words. "You were so much younger than I was when you became a guardian."

Sabé's expression transitioned to something more doubtful. "I'm not one to ask for advice on that. I just buried it." It was so easy to look at her and only see strength, but Obi-Wan was beginning to realize that strength came from immense pain and the necessary growth that pain had demanded. Some would cave underneath that pressure. "Didn't talk to anyone about things," she continued, expression on the more troubled side. "Just did what I knew I had to."

That feeling he labelled as respect grew even further for her, and the tender regard remained. The sadness he felt from her gave him an urge to comfort her. He considered carefully, becoming aware of how easy it would be to let his personal feelings and inclinations combined with this situation get out of hand. It wasn't just camaraderie or friendship that they shared between them, and he knew it by now, and had known it three years ago too. Or if it _was_ friendship, he had never come close to feeling a friendship that affected him like this. "Well for what it's worth, from what I've seen, you've managed wonderfully," he said in all honestly.

Her gaze turned to him, hazel eyes studying his intently. "Thank you." A self-conscious little smile grew and she looked down, obviously deep in fond thoughts about Zana and the experience of raising her. "Sometimes I forget I'm her sister. It feels sometimes much more like motherhood." Motherhood. He could easily see Sabé in that role, seeing as she already essentially was. His mind's eye pictured her briefly like that. He had never wondered before this moment, yet suddenly was with a strange sinking feeling: was Sabé romantically involved with anyone? Even as he wondered that, the image of Captain Gregar Typho sprang to mind, and Obi-Wan's stomach seemed to grow hollow. He didn't have a chance to think about it further though, because Sabé's eyes darted off to somewhere past him and she tensed up. "Movement," she whispered, and Obi-Wan followed her gaze.

A single pirate with a handful of keys was lumbering their way. Obi-Wan steeled himself. The moment had changed. "Looks like it's time to go." He stood quickly and gave Sabé a hand—she sprang up faster than maybe either of them anticipated, and their faces were suddenly inches apart. Startled, they blinked, then moved apart. Both shaken up perhaps not by the closeness, but by the emotional bonding of the moment they'd just experienced.


	14. Escape from Cilpar

The Nikto pirate trudged up to the cage holding Obi-Wan, Sabé, and DC-10, a set of metal keys in one hand and the ray shield controls in the other. With a foul smirk, the guard de-activated the ray shields and came straight up to the cage door, staring at Obi-Wan malevolently. The Jedi returned the stare with a neutral gaze, his arms folded lightly. The pirate spoke, his voice a throaty growl as his reptilian nostrils flared. "All right scum, I'm here for the female. _Move_."

Obi-Wan did move. Forward. "You don't want me to move," he said with the utmost calm command through the rusty bars. "You're going to unlock the door and then step aside to let us pass."

The pirate's face went expressionless and he stood a bit straighter. "I don't want you to move," he repeated, his voice now void of much personality. "I'm going to unlock the door and then step aside to let you pass." And then, just like that, he began to unlock the cage.

Obi-Wan sent Sabé a signifiant look even as she gaped with an astonished expression. The cage door opened with a creak and the pirate stood aside, eyes blank. "Milady," Obi-Wan said conversationally, motioning in a playfully gallant for her to go ahead.

Sabé hesitated doubtfully—was this for real? Obi-Wan chuckled then went first to show her it was safe, a little smile playing on his lips as he watched her visibly face down her nerves to follow him. She limped out and gave a wide berth with eyes on the guard the entire time, but he remained motionless, a non threat. So it _was_ real. "That is quite the trick, Kenobi," she said, genuinely impressed. She'd heard of Jedi ability to influence the weak-minded, but to see it in person was equal parts incredible and a little unsettling. Regardless, she grew emboldened and approached the pirate then with a decisive yank, she declared "I'll take that," as she took the knife strapped to him out of its holster, but her body language remained tense, braced for attack. When he remained stock still, she relaxed a little then snatched his blaster. "And this too." The pirate still stared blankly. Sheathing the knife in her own empty holster, she flipped the blaster deftly in her hand to hold it butt-first and then gave a powerful slashing blow across his head, rendering him unconscious to a heap on the floor. She looked at Obi-Wan, gauging his expression. He nodded briefly, then nodded toward the main cavern.

"Let's go," he said quietly. "Can you walk?"

Sabé nodded and waved down her droid, who still lingered in the cage. "DC-10, get your rear in gear," she ordered, already limping in step with Obi-Wan, who moved slower to keep her pace. They kept to the cavern wall then stopped just short of the main cave where they were still able to remain hidden behind rocks and the shadows.

The cave was very large, the ceiling of it seventy feet or more above their heads, and the cave mouth opening about fifty feet wide and just as tall as the cave. The majority of the pirates were currently all gathered at their long table toward the back of the cave, eating and talking noisily as some kind of dead animal carcass roasted over a spit-turn. Two pirates patrolled the cave mouth, but they seemed bored and listless to Sabé's quick glance. Obi-Wan pointed at the pirate's main freighter, a Corellian ship that was peacefully docked with its ramp down. In between them and the ship there were a few other smaller ships and various supply crates that could provide cover and hiding spots. "We'll sneak around the side wall and into that freighter," Obi-Wan said. Behind them, DC-10 came up, joints noisily whirring.

Sabé slapped a hand to DC-10's chest casing to stop the droid from coming any further. "And how _exactly_ do we sneak with my knee and this noisy droid?" She whispered skeptically. When she'd escaped here last time, it had been during when everyone was sleeping. DC-10 was slow and shiny, a surefire way to get caught.

"You're right," Obi-Wan replied after a beat. "We'll make a break for it after I cause a distraction."

Sabé was unconvinced. " _What_ distraction?"

Obi-Wan gave her a look and then sent his attention to the pirates. His expression grew very focused, and Sabé saw his hand stretch out at his side, fingers flexing. There was a shout, and a burst of flames from the spit-roast so large it caused a few crates nearby to catch fire. The pirates frantically began to work on putting the flames out, and even the guards ran to assist, leaving the cave mouth free and clear. Giving her an airy look, Obi-Wan cocked an eyebrow. "Does that suffice?"

Sabé was prim. "It'll do."

The droid managed to sound aggravated. "Can the both of you stop competing?" DC-10 asked. "I'd very much like to leave this planet now."

"You and me both," Sabé agreed, patting the droid's shoulder component.

Waiting to make sure all the pirates were adequately occupied, Obi-Wan nodded. "Now," he urged, and they made a break for it. Staying at her side, Obi-Wan and Sabé kept low, going as fast as possible and using the cover of crates and ships. DC-10 shuffled as quick as possible, but not being designed for speed or agility meant the droid was at least ten paces or more behind them. And unfortunately, the shiny casing got them spotted about halfway to their destination.

"Hey!" came a shout. " _Prisoners escaping_!"

Sabé swore even as the barrage of blaster fire came at them. Given no other choice, she and Obi-Wan threw themselves behind the shelter of a large supply crate. The ship they were trying for was only a short sprint away—the gangplank beckoning them to the safety and escape the freighter promised.

Blaster held close to her chest as she breathed hard, Sabé whipped her head back toward where her droid was still approaching at a ridiculous shuffle, arms waving in panic. "Hurry, _hurry_!" Sabé urged in a shout as she helplessly watched the metallic being approach through sideways rain of red blaster bolts.

And then, a bolt made contact and hit into DC-10's leg joint, sending out a burst of sparks. "I'm shot!" DC-10 cried, toppling over to the ground just a few feet away from the safety of the crate.

" _DC-10_!" Sabé jumped to her feet thoughtlessly and maybe it was the adrenaline, but the pain in her knee was barely registered as she barreled into the open, blaster up and returning cover fire as she grabbed onto her droid and began pulling them much too slowly toward safety. And then she saw something peculiar. A flying, spinning silver bar coming at them from the where the pirates were. Even as she struggled to understand what it was, it flew right into the spot over her head—and into the waiting hand of Obi-Wan Kenobi, who stood behind her with a severe expression. With a flick of his thumb, his lightsaber blazed to life and he was suddenly in front of her and DC-10, deftly sending laserfire back toward where it had come from.

"Go, _go_ , get to the ship!" he shouted intensely, and Sabé grabbed onto DC-10's slippery casing and yanked the droid up in rescue position under each armpit, then ran backwards as best as she could while lugging the heavy droid along the rough stone flooring toward the ship. She sent a few more sloppy shots out toward their attackers even as she strained with a yell to make it. Obi-Wan stayed near, providing cover the entire time. "I'll get the droid, you _go_!" he commanded, voice a roar over the din of laserfire.

For a millisecond, she considered not following that command. Then she chose to trust, and as gently as she could in the rush she was in, she dropped DC-10 and made a limping run for the ship ramp, firing at the enemy the entire time. Lasers hit the ship as she sprinted up the ramp, sending showers of sparks around her. Blindly, she ran inside and toward what she _hoped_ was the cockpit. It was. Relieved and frantic all at once, she slammed into the captain's chair sideways, fingers fumbling for controls and punching the correct buttons to initiate takeoff. The engines hummed then roared to life and the pitch grew higher as initiation completed. She reached a shaking arm over to activate shields on the co-pilot side of the control panel, her breathing shaky and ragged. Through the cockpit viewing ports, she could see the pirates advancing and some were moving toward their ships. She also saw Obi-Wan, slowly making his way toward the ship, his saber flashing in a dancing blur of blue. Sabé's eyes flew over the console, searching for the ship weapon's system.

She found what she was looking for and hit a few switches then grabbed the trigger and began to fire on the pirates from the cockpit, providing Obi-Wan an opportunity to scoop the droid up and run into the ship. As soon as she was sure he was aboard, Sabé punched the ramp retract and began to lift off. The ship rocked slightly from side to side at her clumsy, hurried actions. Kriff, she didn't entirely know how to fly this thing—Corellian console and tech design was different than Nubian.

Suddenly Obi-Wan was in the cockpit and in the co-pilot's seat, helping her steady the ship by offsetting the main controls with the nuanced art of thruster balance. The ship stabilized. "If they get those ships in the air, we'll have significantly more problems," he said. Even though he was calm, there was a very clear urgency to him.

"That's why they're not getting those ships in the air," Sabé said with a deadly serious firmness. She was ending this— _now._ The ship began to move backwards at her command, and even as she watched pirates jumping into their fighter ships, she punched the throttle hard and pulled back on the trigger, engaging turbo ion cannon control. She fired upwards of six or seven shots into the cave as they zoomed out backwards, the pirate's ships the first things to go up in explosions of flame. Those series of smaller explosions turned into one much larger one that engulfed the entirety of the cave and burst out into the outside world.

Even as bright sunlight suddenly bathed the cockpit where darkness had been before, the ship shuddered from the force of the explosion and the sonic boom that followed. With a dire, relieved glance at her copilot, Sabé cut the speed and whipped the ship around unevenly then at a more steady pace, took them straight toward the bluest part of the sky and the outer space beyond it. She let out a deep, tense breath, shoulders relaxing from where she hadn't even noticed their tenseness. She fell back into the chair and ran a hand down across her face as the sky around them grew darker and stars became visible. The comfort of silence combined with the steady ship's hum gave her the steadiness she needed, and opening her eyes back up, she began to program the hyperdrive. Naboo. A nine hour journey. The calculations were lightning fast and the jump was ready seconds later. She punched it—and stars went to lines then the vessel gave a slight jerk as they shot into lightspeed.

Sabé stood immediately and went back to the main hold—it had a tech station, kitchenette, entertainment console, and bunk beds. All details she glossed over. She went straight to her droid, who was leaned oddly against the built-in table. "DC-10, are you all right?" she asked, examining the droid's black blaster wound and scraped housing.

"I don't believe any major damage is done, Commander," DC-10 replied. "I'll need some time in the shop once we're home."

"Good," Sabé said, nodding as further relief settled in. "Good." She was shaken up from the adrenaline but knowing that her droid was in once piece helped. She thought for a moment, spotting a first-aid pullout on a nearby wall. Obi-Wan appeared from the hallway to the cockpit, where he leaned casually. Sabé tore her gaze from him and looked at DC-10. "We've made the jump to hyperspace, fuel looks good too," she told the droid. "Do you mind going to the cockpit to monitor everything while we get sorted out?"

The droid nodded once. "Of course Commander." Dragging a leg somewhat, the droid proceeded toward the cockpit.

Sabé went to the first-aid pullout and took it out then spread the contents out onto the table. Luckily it was a full set.

"Well, who gets credit for that one?" Obi-Wan asked, his tone distinctly joking as he sauntered closer with arms crossed.

Sabé looked at him cluelessly for a short beat—credit for what? Oh—the rescue count he was keeping. A slightly disbelieving smile spread on her face. "You're still keeping score?" she asked, then shook her head at him. Was there any situation he couldn't make fun of? She played along. "I'd say it was a team effort."

He approached slowly, watching her select bacta strips and wound sanitizer. "Then we're even," he said, and she could hear the smile on his voice without looking at him. "You're impressively protective of that droid," he ventured after a second. "Loyal, even."

Sabé looked at him as she paused her work. "I'm loyal to those who are loyal to me." A fond expression softened her face. "They don't make them all like DC-10." She held up her gathered supplies and prompted him. "You first or me?"

He played the part of gentleman. "Ladies first, of course."

They cleared off the table and Sabé sat on it, allowing Obi-Wan to take the tunic scrap off her wound and clean and properly dress the gash. He looked like quite the way: missing his robe and Jedi tunic, he did still manage to look somehow appealing in the torn tunic that Demi had given him. His wild hair added to the roguish, wild handsome effect. Not for the first time, Sabé told herself not to go there.

"I'm still going to report the situation to the Council, even though the problem seems to have been taken care of," Obi-Wan said presently. He paused and looked at her in an unnervingly close way. "I can sense your inner turmoil. Is it about killing those pirates?"

A slight spike of panic came at his observation, and then his piercing eyes made her stomach flip. "No," she said, and was able to cover with the truth: "I'm worried about the people of Cilpar." She was, and had been from the moment she'd been brought here and thrown into captivity with them. Although they had been guarded and suspicious of her, the outsider, she had understood why and empathized with their situation. "They're vulnerable and not equipped to face threats like those pirates."

Obi-Wan's gentle actions continued as he wrapped her bacta-dressed wound with gauze, finishing up. "True. And yet I don't think the people of Cilpar are ready for big changes from the outside world."

Sabé stood up, nodding her downcast agreement. "They're not. And it's not my place to try and change them either." Obi-Wan took a seat where she'd just been, waiting for his first aid. "Some things need only exist," she noted. And then he pulled his shirt up and off, causing her to fumble and swallow and forget what she was saying. She cleared her throat and forged forward, doing her best to be professional as she removed the makeshift wound dressing that bound his Ronk lacerations. She had to think hard to remember herself. "I will, however, reach out to nearby systems and see who might be able to keep an eye out," she said in a businesslike tone as she began to sanitize the wounds one by one, starting with his forehead cut then working her way to the three giant angry red scratches on either side of his ribcage. It hadn't felt so awkward for her when he'd been unconscious and shirtless. But this was. He was awake, watching her, and very bare. Firm shoulders and defined arms framed a strong torso. As she began applying bacta strips, she tried not to notice the copper hairs scattered lightly across his chest and abdomen that grew more thickly below his belly button and surely further down too. A flush of embarrassment heated her as she pressed a bacta strip into the last clawmark.

"Is everything all right, Commander?" Obi-Wan asked genuinely, no doubt keying in on her obvious discomfort.

In response, Sabé turned a fraction more hostile and practically slapped the last bacta patch onto his forehead cut. "And why wouldn't I be?" she asked thinly, unable to come up with anything else. "I'm _great_." She realized she overdid it, and saw that he was both amused and confused by her response. She looked for something else to do to escape this moment. "Let's see if there's any food on this godsforsaken bucket of bolts."

Obi-Wan pulled the tunic back on as Sabé began to tear the kitchenette apart. He was puzzled at her demeanor but let it go.

Over the next hour, Sabé was able to settle down. Food and water helped, and finding a stash of 100-proof Nyriaan spirits eased her mood greatly. Only a sip or two of the extremely pungent dark liquor was needed to relax, and even Obi-Wan partook. He then suggested a round of Sabacc. What followed was an intense round that Sabé won, then another round which Obi-Wan won. Casual talk drifted between them, and the friendly, relaxed dynamic they'd always shared returned. After Obi-Wan won the third round, Sabé grew indignant in a good-natured way and threw her cards down onto the table they sat at, then crossed her arms and sat back with a challenging look on her face.

"I'm pretty sure you're using the Force to cheat," she said— _mostly_ in jest.

Obi-Wan feigned offense and took another small sip of his drink. "I would never."

"Mmhmm." She took another light sip of her liquor and winced at it, making a face in response to the strong spirits. It sent warmth throughout her and urged her to please, _please_ get the sleep she so badly needed. She started to get up to do just that, and Obi-Wan seemed pleased.

"Admitting defeat then?" he asked teasingly as she walked a few steps off.

Sabé rounded on him. "I would never," she said in humorous defiance, He grinned a little and stood up then leaned against the table as if it were a seat, his hands gripping it on either side as he crossed his ankles. He waited to hear her reason. "Defeating you will have to wait," she said. "I need to sleep."

Obi-Wan appeared thoughtful and unconvinced. "A likely story."

He really seemed to enjoy tormenting her, but she couldn't say the feeling wasn't mutual. Torn between faint annoyance and a feeling like fondness, she regarded him with a smile she couldn't wipe off her face even if she wanted to. Then she noticed his forehead where the hastily patched-up wound was peeling up off his skin at one end. Given one last task before sleep, she walked over to him with an inconvenienced huff. "Your bacta strip is coming off," she said, and touched her fingertips lightly to the spot where the patch was peeling up, gently coaxing it back down. Then she looked into his waiting crystal blue eyes and she forgot about the bacta. She forgot about everything. Some moments have a certain magic to them. Outside time doesn't seem to exist, external factors like the past and future don't seem to matter. This was the kind of moment Sabé found herself suspended in. All there was to focus on was how close they were, and how much everything in her wanted a part of him she intuitively believed was not hers to have. And yet between them there was an electric and alive energy, calling them close, locking their gazes, demanding they surrender. Their expressions mirrored each other's: surprise at the sudden intense moment, vulnerability to the other. Her fingertips drifting down from Obi-Wan's forehead to touch his cheek as her eyes searched his.

Was it him that initiated it, or her? It seemed like they both did, as if drawn together like the most gentle of magnets—her heart was in her throat and was beating like she'd run miles as they drifted closer, until there was no way to be closer. Her mouth found his for the softest, most questioning little touch that he answered cautiously and slowly. In response, her entire body seemed to zing with an explosion of euphoria, peace, and a maddening need for more. Their exhales mixed as their mouths hovered close after that first little testing kiss, and Sabé was crushed by fear that he would push her away. And then she felt his arms so slowly go around her as he stood to his full height, then their lips came together again, this time more boldly. His hands gingerly pressed into her back to pull her against himself as her hand moved from his cheek to hold him by the back of the head. They kissed each other in a soft, disbelieving trance that this was happening, the personality of the kiss growing more sensual and deep by the second. The moment sparked something in Sabé no other kiss ever had: she swore she could feel his emotions for the briefest second. No words could describe it. And then before it had begun, it was over. He pulled back, his expression stunned and lips parted. There they remained frozen, each holding onto each other like that and staring for what felt like an eternity.

"W-what just happened?" Sabé asked in the faintest whisper, afraid to shatter the moment apart. They were still so close that she could feel his heart beating against her. Breathing felt difficult for her in that moment and her mind spun.

Before he said anything at all, Sabé knew. Knew that he'd made a mistake from his perspective, knew that this was a moment that there would be no more of. And her first reaction to that knowledge was fear of losing his friendship over everything else. She almost dreaded his reply.

He swallowed and wet his lips, and she saw that he didn't know either. "We're… both a little inebriated," he whispered back after a moment.

It hurt immediately and deeply when he said that. But she imagined anything he said would inflict pain right now. "Right," she agreed hesitantly, nodding shallowly in a daze. She didn't feel _that_ affected by the drink. But she echoed his story. "Both a little inebriated."

He nervously wet his lips again, eyes searching hers, conflict and pain showing on his expression. His arms were loosening. "We… we probably wouldn't have done that if we were clear headed."

Was he trying to convince himself, or her? It didn't matter. There was a pain in her chest and somewhere else not physical that was growing. She pulled away from him completely, ashamed and embarrassed and disappointed. Without anything further she straightened herself and left quickly. "I'll be up front with DC."

* * *

Obi-Wan remained in the hold for most of the remainder of the journey, seeking clarity through meditation. None came. All he felt was conflict and surprise. At himself, at the situation. It had happened so suddenly, and he'd gone along so willingly. He couldn't stop thinking about it, running the moment and every little detail over in his mind a thousand times. He hadn't known a kiss was like that—he'd never experienced one before. There had been quite a few women and men throughout the years who had expressed flirtations and interest in him, but Obi-Wan had merely taken it as a compliment and gone about his business. While he did find some women _attractive_ , he had never really struggled with being _attracted_ to one. With Sabé, it went so far beyond the physical in a way he wasn't sure how to frame. But now that he'd had a taste of the physical aspect, he was lost. And dreading their next interaction. Because he respected and cared for her, and owed her the truth and an explanation of why he couldn't pursue this with her. Ever. And yet that kiss was burned into his mind, and he wanted more. The feeling of her in his arms, the way her kiss felt and what it had done to him… he doubted he would ever be free of the memory.

When his senses told him their journey would be coming to an end soon, Obi-Wan rose from where he'd been sitting cross-legged and with a deep breath to steel himself, he went into the cockpit. There he found Sabé in the captain's chair. DC-10 was in low-power mode, plugged in to charge in the further back corner of the cockpit.

He slowly sat down in the co-pilot's chair. Sabé's expression was neutral as she looked unseeingly into the mottled whir of hyperspace. She spoke first. "Please forgive me, Obi-Wan." A muscle in her jaw clenched and she looked at him with eyes that were disgraced. "I wasn't thinking clearly, and I just— _acted_."

It was painful to see her guilt, and he didn't know how to make it right. "Don't feel badly, Sabé, please. We both…" he trailed off, then cast his eyes away, unable to bear looking at her. "It was both of us." He drew in a deep breath and did his best to explain where he stood. "The Jedi code isn't precise on some things. Some think we ought never indulge in physical relationships because they toe the line of attachment." He spoke slowly and gently, afraid to hurt her further. "Others see physical encounters as being entirely possible without attachment. Each Jedi Knight must arrive at their own conclusion in this specific matter."

She listened somberly. "And what is your conclusion?" She asked. She didn't sound hopeful.

Obi-Wan wanted to tell her everything, but knew he should be very careful how he worded himself. "I… feel much too deeply to approach anything like that casually." Even admitting that felt like he'd taken off all his armor. He finally looked at her again, wishing he could make her understand so that she couldn't take it personally or feel pain from it. "I'm sworn to the Code, and to the Order. By my own choice. My life is for service to the greater good." Even right now to look at her, he couldn't help but find her beautiful and feel a sense of injustice that this situation was suddenly like this. "I purposefully abstain from taking part in certain life experiences, but… I _am_ only human," he told her, his guilt making him feel burdened. "Prone to my own sets of weaknesses and flaws." Including feelings, urges, desires that he viewed as more self-serving. He was wise enough to know that he couldn't control his feelings, only his decisions. This was one of those instances where his feelings were truly difficult to overlook. That, and the hurt he saw on her face and felt from her energy caused him to suffer too. He hesitated, fearing that what he said next would be too revealing. But he wanted her to know, and he held her gaze meaningfully. "In a different lifetime… I suspect that moment would have ended very differently."

Her eyes were dark and full. He felt how she resisted his message and how her feelings surged at his last statement. She was quiet for a long moment, then she nodded and accepted it. "I understand."

The reply made his chest feel as though it swelled with a tender feeling. He wished he could give her a better reassurance. All he could offer though, was the following. "As always, you have my utmost respect and my friendship."

Despite the emotional wound she was now carrying, she nodded and a hurt smile pressed her face. "And you mine." She returned to looking at hyperspace.

Obi-Wan studied her profile and felt sadness that could have been hers or his. Or perhaps both. "I'm so sorry if I've offended you."

She drew a deep breath and let it out, thinking. She was measured in her reply, but there was an undertone of heartache there. "I told you. I understand. I'll put this behind me." Her eyes drifted downward. "But I do have to be honest." Her gaze came to meet his once more, and the intensity there stilled him. "I'll always wonder about that different lifetime, Obi-Wan."

He thought he would too. Physical pain filled his chest.

The ship dropped out of hyperspace just then, and Naboo's familiar surface greeted them. The smallest smile and sigh came from Sabé, whose relief to be home was tangible. She had returned to all-business again, shutting out the previous conversation. "I notified the palace of our arrival. Queen's not available right now but someone's supposed to meet us at the airfield." She smoothed her hair and attempted a lighter mood. "How do I look?"

An invitation to keep their dynamic friendly and teasing as it always had been. "Same as I do," he answered, trying his best to fall into step. "Dreadful."

She grinned at that, but he saw the sadness peaking through still. Sabé began to signal Theed air control and pilot them in. Obi-Wan watched her, realizing that he might never see this woman again. And perhaps that was for the best. But the thought tore at him and made him feel low, like a stone sunken to the bottom of an ocean.

They landed at an airfield Obi-Wan was not familiar with, due to the larger ship they were in. Visible waiting were two individuals Obi-Wan recognized easily now: Captain Typho and Zana.

Sabé got DC-10 up and going and headed to the main hold as Obi-Wan lowered the ramp and finished the landing protocol. He followed behind Sabé by a few paces, feeling as if he needed to distance himself so that no one could discover the secret moment that had transpired. He watched as Sabé limped down the ramp and was promptly crashed into by her sister, who hugged so tightly it looked like she might squeeze Sabé in half. Relieved tears streamed down the teenager's face. Zana was the height that Sabé could rest a cheek against the top of her head, and Sabé's expression worked hard not to break down as she held her sister back tightly. A moment that tugged at the heartstrings. Typho approached the girls and took off his hat, then Sabé put a single arm around him as he hugged both the girls. Obi-Wan felt a strange feeling flare and that question raised in his mind again about Gregar and Sabé.

"You alright?" Typho asked, pulling back and giving Sabé a worried look over. "Looks like you really went through something."

Sabé ruffled Zana's hair and looked at Gregar in turn. "Banged up but fine as usual,"

DC-10, slowly moving toward them with the bad leg, sounded affronted. "On the contrary, I think my leg joint is no longer functional!"

Obi-Wan suddenly found himself in a painful hug from Zana, who ran from her sister to him. "Thank you, _thank you,_ " she said, her eyes and energy brimming with gratitude and warmth.

Smiling lightly at her, he patted her shoulder kindly. "It was no trouble at all," he said, and he and Sabé's gazes met for a brief, signifiant second at that. Zana returned to stand in front of her sister, holding one of Sabé's hands in both of her own as if she were afraid the wind might blow her away.

Typho put his hat back on and nodded in a shallow bow. "Master Kenobi, you have our gratitude." He was not as warm as Zana was. "Please, let us take you to a medical facility and give you guest lodging to rest in."

Obi-Wan considered. He wanted to. Not for any reason except not to leave where Sabé was yet. And that was precisely why knew he must refuse. "No I—I'll be needed back at the temple very soon." He didn't have to look at Sabé to know the disappointment he felt was hers.

"Are you sure?" Typho asked.

Obi-Wan nodded, pleasant and gathered outwardly. "I'm sure." He approached Sabé and gave a small bow. It felt strange to leave this way, like he was betraying a part of himself. "Well, Commander." So much felt left unsaid. But all he could speak was: "I suppose this is goodbye."

Sabé attempted to match his show of formality. "Yes." But her smile was sad and she clearly struggled for the words to say. She finally settled on: "It was good seeing you again. Even under the circumstances." He knew she meant that part, and he agreed. Typho was watching keenly, and Sabé seemed to grow uncomfortable under his watchfulness. "Will you give Anakin our hello?" she asked Obi-Wan.

He nodded. "Of course." Their time together flashed through his mind inescapably. Words felt so hollow in contrast. "Take care."

Sabé contemplated him for a long couple of seconds. "The heart of Naboo goes with you, Master Kenobi." And then she gave him another smile tinged by sadness.

His smile mirrored hers. _Until we meet again,_ he thought. And then he did the hardest thing he'd done in awhile and turned to go back into the freighter to return to his life.

As the ship began to initiate takeoff, Sabé released a long sigh and turned her attention to Zana. They began to walk toward the speeder nearby with an arm looped around each other and even as Sabé gave Zana a squeeze, Gregar looked at her intently. "Did something happen?" he asked quietly.

Sabé returned his glance dismissively. "What would've happened?"

Not convinced, Gregar didn't push it, but he did cast a shrewd look back at the departing freighter.

Sabé glanced back too, her expression flickering. The past few days would be difficult to move on from and jump back into normal life from. But what choice did she have? She intuitively knew that what happened between her and Obi-Wan would haunt her. That stolen moment was burned into her mind like a brand. How could she escape that? Watching his ship leave, her heart felt like it broke a little, like it was betrayal for him to leave. But she'd known since the first day she met him that they were on two separate paths, living two different lives. That was the truth of it, and no longing in her heart would ever change that. Would fate bring them together again? That remained to be seen. Until then, she would carry the burden of knowing his kiss.


	15. Trouble on Mon Calamari

**22BBY  
** **(Six and a Half Years Later)**

Mon Calamari's populous capital city floated peacefully on the endless surface oceans, a steely gray cluster of infrastructure and buildings that both hovered above the waters and plunged deep below the sea surface. Currently in the winter season, the planet was cold. Light snow danced like confetti through Coral City, accumulating on nothing. The metropolis was currently especially busy with comings and goings in preparation for a special delegation rally—many politicians and galactic leaders were expected for a luxurious reception that evening, followed by the political rally the next day.

At a service entry landing platform adjacent to the city's Grand Prestige Venue, a Quarren security officer met a human male who was unloading large hover-cases of exotic beers, wines, and spirits. Dressed in a rugged dark green (so dark it was nearly black) outfit and jacket, the man had his longish ginger hair gathered into a bun at the back of his head.

"Shipment for the delegation reception?" the Quarren male asked on approach. The man nodded. "ID please." The man readily produced the identification, and the security guard looked it over. "Owan Kenby." He looked at the man again, not exactly mistrustfully, but not exactly friendly either. "Haven't seen you here before."

Owan Kenby—better known as Obi-Wan Kenobi under normal circumstances—gave the shadow of a smile. "I'm new." He handed over the forged security clearance authorization, which was promptly scanned.

An affirmative beep came. "Clearance approved, carry on," the guard said, waving him along, but not without another hooded glance.

Giving the impression of leisure and ease, Obi-Wan continued forward, pulling along the linked hover cases behind himself. His eyes darted around, taking in his surroundings as he was gently peppered by snowflakes that melted the second they hit his skin. It wasn't often that Jedi went undercover quite like this. But these were changing times. He glanced at his comm, which displayed the local time. In about two hours, he was set to meet an agent from RDI—the Republic Department of Intelligence. He had no details on who the agent was, only a code-word and an exact time and place to make contact.

Until then, he needed to look busy.

* * *

Deep in the mottled swirling starlight of hyperspace, the newly elected Senator Padmé Amidala stood quietly on the observation deck of the ship _Victorious_ , her trusty astromech, R2-D2, at her side. In addition to the droid, Captains Typho and Ludo plus Lieutenant Dakana all flanked her further back, as well as her handmaidens Dormé and Versé and two other security guards who stood in the shadows, waiting. A more heavy security detail than typical, but there were reasons why.

Approaching from the hold where she'd just changed her outfit, Sabé ran two hands over her hair to make sure the neat bun at the back of her neck was smooth. She straightened the hems of her long blue sleeves, fidgeting a little into the old but instantly familiar fabric of her commander's dress blues. It was a showy but elegant uniform, designed to portray the prestigious rank of commander with a marriage of militaristic flare and classic Nubian elegance. Complete with a sweeping front panel of slate blue and a dramatic rust red cape that furled out from either shoulder, three silver pins of honor were fastened to the front and right-hand side of her chest. It was a uniform that had defined her life so profoundly for so long… and then had retired to be hung gathering dust in a closet for almost four years now.

Padmé turned a fraction, watching Sabé approach from the back of the hold, her face softening into a smile when she saw her former aide, bodyguard, and security official in the Naboo uniform. It felt surreal to be back with people who she'd been so close to for a good portion of life. Gregar, Padmé, even Ludo and Dakana. Life certainly had changed in the past few years. Sabé returned the smile Padmé gave then laid a hand onto Artoo's dome briefly, contemplating hyperspace swirling by. They were due to arrive to Mon Calamari soon.

After retiring with honor from the Naboo security forces shortly after Zana's graduation from primary school, Sabé had taken a job with the Republic Department of Intelligence's branch on Naboo's sister planet, Chommell Minor, knowing she would be able to transfer branches to be closer to Zana's medic school on Coruscant after a certain training period. Six months later, she made that transfer and found herself living and working as an intelligence and security agent on the busiest planet in the galaxy. It was a strange transition, leaving her in a new land devoid of familiar people, places, and things. She'd missed Naboo terribly and despised a lot of things about Coruscant—especially at first. But being nearby to Zana was more important than that homesick feeling. The job itself suited Sabé immensely and felt important, so that helped her look past the feeling of missing the way things used to be. After a year or so, she'd gotten accustomed to the soulless nature of Coruscant and came to view the small agency-sanctioned apartment she kept as home. These days, life on Naboo was a growingly distant memory. A bittersweet thought indeed.

Compared to when she'd just been a handmaiden then ranking security officer on Naboo, she was a rookie agent in a huge sea of moving parts at RDI. Sometimes it was a comfort to be no one. Other times, it was a sorrow. Climbing slowly in the ranks of RDI gave her a new goal and purpose, and now that she was about five years in, she felt adjusted and like she knew what she was doing. With the rank of special field agent, she mostly worked espionage and fact-finding missions—the kinds of work that required the entirety of her focus and time. Her preference, of course—it left less time to get lonely or restless. There were also sometimes security and protection details she worked for RDI's sister agency: the Senate Bureau of Intelligence, or SBI. Now with Padmé as a senator, it seemed that again, the two women's paths were linked—mirrored in a nonexact way.

Sabé contemplated her current mission. Several anonymous tips had come in from Coral City on Mon Calamari, alleging that there was some kind of illegal droid and weapons production factory on the planet. If that were true, Mon Calamari might be a treasonous enemy of the Republic. There were more and more reports all the time about the growing confederacy of starsystems who wished to separate from the Republic. Whispers of the possibility of a galaxy-wide war had been more and more common over the past year or so. The general public seemed split in half in opinions: some thought it could never happen, others were convinced it was inevitable. Either way, this Confederacy, a new movement but a formidable one, was gaining more and more traction.

That's why Padmé was en route to Mon Calamari in the first place: the planet's Senate representative, a Quarren male senator named Dun Tikkes, had been spewing more and more rhetoric that seemed to indicate he wished for his people and planet of Mon Cala to separate from the Republic. Padmé was going to attend a political rally to offer a counterstance on why such a move would be detrimental to the people of Mon Calamari.

Since RDI and SBI worked closely with the senate, it had been easy to arrange for the agency to use Padmé's speech as means to infiltrate and then investigate the droid factory lead. Sabé reflected that using Padmé's entourage as cover was certainly an easy way into Coral City, but once on the planet, it remained to be seen how exactly to proceed. Maybe the Jedi contact she was supposed to meet would have more information—RDI was working more and more with other agencies and orders in recent times, including the Jedi Order. Sabé's focus flickered. Even the thought of 'Jedi Order' caused her to turn her mind to a certain Jedi. The one who her thoughts strayed to more often than she cared to admit. Living on Coruscant and seeing the elegant spires of the Temple as frequently as she did across the city skyline, she lived in silly hope of running into him again. Of hearing his voice across a room or catching sight of a glimpse of brown robe and russet hair. All girlish daydreams that had never materialized into anything real.

Padmé's soft, familiar voice interrupted her thoughts. "It makes me nostalgic to see you in the uniform again, Sabé," the senator said, and when Sabé looked over, she saw fondness lighting her friend's eyes. Another smile passed between the two women, who had seen each other for the first time in years for the first time today. Their reunion just a few hours prior when boarding _Victorious_ had been more emotional than Sabé had anticipated. They'd been so close during Padmé's reign as Queen, and life had demanded too much of them in more recent times to allow for much face-to-face time. They did keep in contact over devices, mostly via texting channels. But still, there wasn't anything quite like being eye-to-eye with someone. "It feels like so long since we've really caught up."

Sabé felt a shade of guilt for her workaholic ways. "I know." An apologetic little expression took over her face that revealed none of how deep in thought she'd just been. "Life never seems to get less busy, does it?" Padmé obviously agreed. Sabé eyed her former queen, who still wore incredibly lavish and ornate gowns as a new senator, but no longer hid behind a painted mask. Padmé looked healthy, beautiful, and poised, her black gown with gold trim and elegant updo making her appear as opulent and slightly magical as ever. "How are you liking Senate life?"

Padmé seemed largely at peace. "It feels right." She then sighed briefly upon further thought, eyes flickering to hyperspace and giving away a more weary side of herself. " _But_ … it _is_ very challenging in moments, and I'm still finding my place. There's so much work to be done to get our government running ethically again."

Sabé doubted if an ethical government was possible, but had to give her friend credit. "If anyone's up to the task, it's you Padmé," she said in a way that was both genuine and playful.

A noise behind them caused them both to look. Sabé's RDI partner, Agent Rett Chronos, was entering from the hold. He was dressed in a Nubian captain's uniform identical to Typho. Sabé's expression darkened fractionally.

"Your partner's very handsome," Padmé observed with interest. An observation almost anyone could agree with. Rett was olive skinned and tall with broad shoulders, chiseled facial features, dark brows, soft eyes, and thick dark hair that was always tousled on the top of his head and shaved neatly on his face. He carried himself with a confident swagger, took nothing too seriously, and had a charm that most people were taken with right away.

"All yours," Sabé muttered, resisting the urge to roll her eyes at her idiot partner, who was halfway across the room doing his own thing but grating on her nerves nonetheless. Padmé gave a questioning, amused look at Sabé's grievance. "He's nothing but trouble," Sabé explained, knowing how bitter she sounded. "Every time we're on assignment, he makes my job a thousand times harder." And no matter how many times she requested different partner pairings or filed complaints, the agency still stuck her with him at least half the time.

Nearby, Typho was at a tech readout, just finishing up reading something. He came over just then to Padmé and Sabé, giving two respectful nods. His gaze and Sabé's locked for a couple of brief, tense seconds before her addressed Padmé. "Senator Amidala, I've just received a transmission from Mon Calamari. The protests about your visit are still happening." Sabé's thoughtful frown and gaze directed toward Padmé as Gregar continued. "Are you sure this is a wise idea to still go, even with the anonymous threats you've received?"

Padmé took the information in stride, choosing bravery as per usual. "Wise or not, it's necessary. I _will_ go before the Mon Calamari Council. It is unbelievably important that the Quarren and Mon Calamari people see that staying in the Republic is in their best interest. They need the Republic's protection more than ever with the Confederacy looming over us. Separating would be a disaster for their planet. Someone needs to tell the people the truth, because half of their leaders aren't."

Typho listened doubtfully, then hesitated. "I've… also received word that Count Dooku will be there."

Outwardly, Sabé had no reaction. Internally, she was surprised and immediately suspicious. That seemed like a very telling move. Count Dooku was a former Jedi who had left the Order, disappeared for some time, then re-emerged leading with a strong and dangerous message that called for planets to defect from the Republic and form a new government—he was essentially the Confederacy frontman, and not to be trusted. Padmé's confidence faltered into near defiance at the mention of the count. "Like I said. It's of the utmost importance this speech happens. And I certainly won't be intimidated into not going." Wheeling, Padmé's more shrewd side showed as she fixed Sabé with a thorough frown. "Is your assignment here something to do with Dooku?" she asked.

Sabé glanced at Gregar then Padmé. "Unfortunately the details of my mission aren't ones I can share, Milady. But it's safe to say he's very much on the department's radar."

Padmé accepted that but was visibly troubled, withdrawing into distracted thoughts. "I need to review some things before our arrival," she said, eyes on the back of the room where the exit was. "If you'll excuse me."

As she swept past, Gregar and Sabé exchanged weighted, thin smiles then went separate ways—the captain returning to stand with his officers, and Sabé approaching Rett, who was eating a crunchy round applie fruit leisurely.

"Hey boss, ready to blow this investigation out of the water?" he asked casually through a mouth full of fruit.

"There will be no _blowing_ anything," she replied firm and low, trying to keep the discussion discreet. "You nearly got us _killed_ last assignment."

Rett feigned offense. "How was that my fault?!" He asked indignantly, then reconsidered, gesturing with his fruit offhandedly then grinning like it was hilarious. "I mean it kind of _was_ , but—"

" _You_ follow _my_ lead this time," Sabé ordered sharply, using her finger to point at each of them in turn and resisting the urge to smack the applie out of his hand.

He batted the command away lazily, eyeing his fruit for the best spot to take his next bite from. "Yeah fine," he said, most undoubtedly going to do things as he always did: his own haphazard, half-witted way. "You heard from our Jedi contact or whoever yet?"

If he had been paying attention to the assignment directive, he would have already _known_. "Like I told you before," she said stiffly. "There's a meeting _time_ and _place_ during the delegate reception in a couple hours," Sabé said, not bothering to hide her short temper.

"I still don't get why they're involved now," he said, taking another unbothered and noisy bite of his applie.

Sabé was so done with him. "Don't you pay attention at briefings?" she asked, because she certainly saw him attend most of them (even if he was very late usually).

He grinned at her unabashedly. "That's when I take my naps!" He took another huge bite and chewed noisily, wiping the back of his mouth with his sleeve.

She might as well be on this assignment alone, and maybe it was better to approach it that way. Sabé muttered something darkly like 'insufferable' to no one in particular, walking off before she let her nerves get the best of her. Rett was essentially a henchman and nothing else, nowhere near qualified to be an agent which required finesse, subtlety, and strategy. He really only came in handy during physical fights.

This was going to be a long job.

* * *

**A Few Hours Later  
** **The Grand Prestige Venue**

It required a lot to impress Sabé, but this event hall certainly did. The size of it alone was staggering, rivaling the Senate building in square footage. Dimly lit and luxuriously furnished, the hall was designed to feel theatrical in a way. The domed ceiling of the hall that stretched stories above their heads was programmed with soft lighting that made the entire place look as thought it were under moving, shimmering water. An ornate crystal chandelier hung twenty meters up over the center of the room, suspended by a hover propulsion system halfway between the floor and ceiling. An ornate staircase spiraled around a beautiful water fountain at the entrance, and on either side of the room, huge tanks of crystal clear water housed ethereal sea creatures on display. Soothing, melodic music echoed softly through the large space, intermingling with the louder sound of laughter, conversation, and glasses clinking. There were at least a few thousand in attendance. Padmé had drawn a crowd of curious partygoers, admirers, and a few who wished to engage in friendly debate. Her security team was in a loose and watchful perimeter around her, and Sabé had taken the opportunity to slip away. The huge crowd made it easy to be covert.

She patrolled the edge of the event hall, moving slowly but eyes everywhere all at once, counting people, noticing security officers, watching her cohorts, and keeping an eye out for anything amiss. Even though she wasn't actually on security detail, it was all habit.

Over at a serving table with foods, appetizers, and drinks piled high, Rett wasn't taking himself seriously. He grabbed a fistful of crackers when he though no one was looking and slapped them to his mouth, chewing in his exaggerated, messy way while he cast a look around. Sabé had to look away and forcefully push down her resentful feelings. He was an embarrassment. Her wrist comm beeped, the timer going off. She stopped the notification, seeing that it was the appointed hour to meet her Jedi contact nearby. She glanced at Rett again, then made the executive decision not to remind him or take him with her.

She turned on her heel and went toward the stairs for the balcony that wrapped the entire room. She slipped past the "No Admittance" sign and ascended the stairs at a light jog, ready to meet her Jedi contact.

* * *

Atop a special alcove balcony, Count Dooku, Senator Dun Tikkes, and his small entourage of security and allies looked down over the congregants of the reception, watching Padmé Amidala in particular with looks of mild disapproval on their faces.

"I thought she would surely back down after the threats and protests," Count Dooku said gravely.

Tikkes's amphibian three-claw hands dug into the railing in frustration. "That Republic scum has nerve coming here like this." His eyes narrowed with hatred as he watched Padmé engaging several local politicians in deep, interactive conversation. "Look how they all love what she has to say," he spat.

Count Dooku stroked a bony finger down his chin with a dark look in his eyes—he seemed to have other things bothering him. "I don't like her being here, especially not in the middle of... our _arrangement._ "

Tikkes's facial tentacles gave a nervous quiver as his beady dark eyes darted to look at the wizened old count. "Do you think she's here to expose us?" Dooku gave Tikkes an impatient look that nonverbally communicated that was exactly his suspicion. The Quarren straightened up, both eager to please Dooku and afraid to disappoint. "She'll never succeed."

"You also said she wouldn't even come to the rally, and here she is," Dooku pointed out dangerously. "She will give her speech tomorrow and discredit everything you and I have prepared. And _if_ she finds evidence of the army we're building…"

"I know, I know," Tikkes said, growing cagey. He motioned to one of his security personnel, then gave the command, his anger growing. "Kill her. _Now_ , tonight! Make it look like an accident. I've had enough of her meddling. Only a few months in the senate and such a thorn in my side, _Ackhgshvik_!" he swore.

His thug nodded and left the balcony to do the job. Dooku gave Tikkes a skeptical look, and left as well, his cape swirling behind him as he did. Tikkes followed like the collared-and-leashed pet he was.

* * *

Sabé climbed the staircase and came out onto the darker, unlit balcony. It was empty except for a solitary waiting figure with their back turned to her. That was her contact—right where planned, and at the exact time too. She went toward the person, then came a few steps short as her feet faltered. She didn't recognize the person on a _physical_ level, but even before he turned around, she felt a keen, unmistakable sense of recognition that made her heart jump and freeze.

He turned around even as she stared and his face was a mirror of hers: confused and surprised—it seemed that he'd recognized her before he turned, too. "…Sabé!" he exclaimed in the softest breath.

"...Obi-Wan?" she asked, too shocked to find any other words. He looked different—he had a full beard and long hair that was swept up into a tidy bun near the crown of his head. He didn't wear Jedi clothing, but instead some sort of rugged working man's outfit. But his face and eyes hadn't changed except to take on more maturity of time. He was perhaps even more handsome with the beard than without somehow. " _You're_ my contact?" Sabé practically sputtered, dismally caught off guard.

"You're _my_ contact?" he returned in equal measure of flabbergast, and Sabé realized this might be a bigger shock for him than for her. After all, he had no idea about her career change since they hadn't spoken in almost seven years. Wordlessly, Sabé drew out her galaxy-wide recognizable RDI badge and Obi-Wan's face registered surprised understanding. "That's new."

Sabé eyed him up questioningly, a growing smile on her face. "So is your outfit." She always had a hard time imagining him in anything but Jedi robes, yet here he was. "What… _exactly_ are you supposed to be?"

Obi-Wan seemed a little amused and chagrinned at himself too. "An ale and fine wines dignitary." He looked over her commander's uniform and put it all together with a thoughtful nod. "Clever, using Padmé's group as cover to get here undetected." Sabé gave a humble little performative shrug, then their eyes met during a brief silence and her expression fell as she keenly remembered the last time she'd seen him—the stolen kiss, the awkwardness between them, the pain that resulted. His expression shifted to something more serious and reflective. "It's good to see you again," he told her in an emotionally weighted tone of voice that made her wonder if he was remembering what she was too.

Words and coherent thoughts seemed out of reach to her in that moment under the intensity of the sudden surge of feelings and emotion Obi-Wan could apparently so easily awake in her. "Likewise, I'm sure, I'm sorry—" Sabé floundered, trying to get herself together. "I'm just so surprised to see you here like this."

His smile was understanding and almost secretive, which only made her fluster increase. "I assure you… the feeling's quite mutual," he said. Then he grew inquisitive. "Wait, does this mean you're living on Coruscant now?" The corners of his mouth twitched. "And never a call or a visit, old friend?" He was teasing her. And that was actually quite the relief.

"I've been _busy,_ " she said, matching his playful tone and relaxing, reassured that he wasn't going to hold that part of their past against her. "How long have you been here?"

"Only a couple of hours. Not long enough to do any proper investigation, by any means." He shifted his weight and folded his arms. "Plus I thought I ought to wait for my counterpart." He peered at her curiously. "What's our first move?"

Sabé arched a brow, in better spirits now that they could focus on the task at hand. "Oh, I'm in charge? Good to know." She turned and leaned her elbows on the smooth bannister and contemplated the event hall spread out below them. Count Dooku and Tikkes were entering into the main area from the grand staircase together. Her mind began to refocus and adjust to the idea of working with Obi-Wan on this assignment. It actually boosted her mood, because she knew he was a trustworthy and cunning warrior. "Count Dooku being here is a bold and telling move," she said. "I think Senator Tikkes has something to do with all this." She gave Obi-Wan, who came to stand beside her at the bannister, a sidelong look. "I think we ought to go pay his home office a visit and see what's on his personal devices. He strikes me as the type who would leave self-incriminating evidence laying around."

Obi-Wan nodded, appearing up for the challenge. "Ready whenever you are. He should be distracted here for quite some time."

Sabé straightened up and put on more seriousness than necessary. "First, I need to know…" she looked at the top of his head, not bothering to hide her amusement. "Is that hair real?"

She made for the stairs, hearing Obi-Wan sigh as he followed. "Now you sound like Anakin."

"And he's where, exactly?" Sabé asked as they descended the stairs. Noise grew as they re-entered the party level.

"On a mission with another master. Which is why I volunteered for this, actually." Obi-Wan explained, then frowned thoughtfully as they stood just outside of the staircase entrance. "Speaking of. Aren't there supposed to be two of you?"

Sabé's mood soured. "Yes. He's around here somewhere. And he's completely useless."

Obi-Wan however had gone ramrod tense and was staring into the center of the room. "Wait. _Wait._ "

Even as Sabé's eyes flew to try and see whatever he was seeing and her adrenaline kicked up a notch, the grand chandelier's propulsion system went completely out and the massive structure plunged down toward the guests filling the massive hall—more specifically, toward the place where Padmé and others stood. Screams of dismay came as people noticed. Beside her, Obi-Wan reacted in record time, hands outstretched and a sound of effort coming out from gritted teeth as he used the Force to stop the chandelier just before it could kill—but Sabé's eyes had gone elsewhere. Up at the top of the nearby grand staircase, someone had gone running. Without a second thought as her weapon whipped out into her hand, Sabé raced out into the chaotic sea of guests and darted up the stairs in hot pursuit, shouting " _move_!" to those in her way.

She dashed out into the frigid cold of night, nearly missing seeing a flash of telltale motion over to the left of the fleeing suspect. Running at a breakneck speed with snowflakes stinging against her skin, she rounded the corner she'd just seen the movement at, and saw ahead a running figure. Digging deep, she sprinted with everything she had, narrowing the distance between them. There was nowhere for the suspect to go. To their left, a high wall, and to their right, a steep many-story dropoff down to the churning ocean below. " _Stop_!" Sabé shouted, drawing her other blaster mid-run. The second she began firing two deadly lines of laserbolts, the attacker grabbed the railing he ran beside, smoothly catapulting off then falling several stories and jackknifing into the ocean water below.

Sabé slammed into the railing, breathing hard and trying to get a look at whoever it was. Peering down, all she could see was the watery outline of the assailant swimming away with speed she knew could only be a Quarren or a Mon Calamari.

Beside her, she heard someone else's approach. It was Typho and Obi-Wan, and some local authorities were behind them. Obi-Wan seemed to know what had happened as he too looked down into the dark ocean below them.

"Did you get a look at them?" Typho demanded, his face a mask of intensity and breath hard.

"No, but I'm fairly sure whoever just tried to kill Padmé was a local," Sabé said grimly, holstering her blasters angrily. Wind and snow whipped at her, quickly numbing her exposed hands, face, and neck. If she'd been a little faster, maybe she could have apprehended or killed whoever that mysterious attacker was. Furthermore, Rett was nowhere to be seen in the small flood of local law enforcement and security appearing.

"And where the _hell_ is my partner?" she barked to no one in particular.


	16. Sabotage

Deep below the ocean surface, Padmé's luxurious Coral City guest quarters were stunning and spacious in design, featuring Mon Calamari design metalwork and a two-level multi-bedroom suite. Each elegantly appointed room therein featured floor-to-ceiling transparisteel that showed off the cobalt depths and featured a gorgeous view of other parts of the underwater city. Fish and other sea creatures of all sizes could be seen passing by at times, and the master bedroom jutted out completely into the water, creating a nearly three-hundred and sixty degree experience.

In the sitting room, Padmé stood by one of the gigantic transparisteel views, her focus on anything _but_ the stunning blue vista beyond. "I understand your points, Master Kenobi, Captain Typho, Sabé," she said tightly. "But the fact that someone tried to kill me only shows me the importance of this speech that I _will_ give tomorrow. And now that we're aware of how serious the threat is, my security force will double its efforts to keep me safe." She was agitated in a noble sort of way, her eyes flashing and cheeks flushed. "These are _cowards_ trying to deter me to run away. I will _not_." Her sharp eyes dared any of them to argue further.

With a resigned jaw clench and nod, Typho relented. "So be it."

Brooding, Sabé hung back with arms crossed in deep thought as Obi-Wan remained neutral and tranquil. Padmé drew a deep and steadying breath. They'd rushed out of the disrupted reception and down to their guest quarters by way of the bullet-lift, a superfast elevator. Two Naboo officers were posted on each entrance—there were both upper and lower entrances to the suites. While Padmé had been visibly surprised to see Obi-Wan, she hadn't really questioned it, only greeted him briefly. She addressed him now. "Thank you for your help, Jedi Kenobi. I doubt I'd be here if it weren't for you. I owe you many times over now."

He was polite and humble as usual. "You owe nothing Milady. I'm very glad I was able to help."

The door buzzed just then, and everyone present was immediately a degree more on edge at the unexpected hail. Veiled in a dark teal robe that obscured her features, Dormé quietly glided to the viewing panel to see who was there—Typho's hand hovered over his holstered weapon and Sabé looked ready to uncoil into action like a loaded spring. Dormé looked then turned to look at Padmé for guidance after seeing who it was. "It's Senator Tikkes, Milady."

A small beat of suspicious silence hung as everyone relaxed a slight degree. "No doubt here to attempt to convince you to leave," Typho said darkly. "He could be behind the attack for all we know."

Sabé was hard to read, except determined. "Keep him here talking as long as you can, will you?" she asked Padmé, her tone serious and significant.

There were questions in Padmé's eyes, but she nodded. "Of course." She smoothed her gown and cleared her throat, gathering herself for the unexpected visit from Tikkes.

"Come on." Sabé jerked her head, indicating Obi-Wan come with her downstairs to the lower level exit to avoid Tikkes. They left the sitting room, the doorway sealing shut behind them as they descended a generously sized staircase. At the lower level main area, a lounge area stood against another full floor-to-ceiling ocean view. Sabé glanced into one of the bedrooms off of the lounge where she saw that her luggage had been delivered. She headed that way and gave Obi-Wan a quick glance. "Wait here. I'll be three minutes." She shut the door behind herself without any other explanation.

He did as instructed since he seemed to have no other choice, folding his arms and leaning against the opposite wall with a soft, contemplating expression on his face. He watched some sea life floating by just on the other side of the nearby window wall. This was indeed a strange and surreal turn of events. Seeing the woman he'd worked so hard to distance himself from mentally and emotionally had thrown him off a bit more than he would like to admit. In memories, it was easy to forget and for the mind to grow fuzzy on the details. Today he'd been smacked in the face with everything he had set aside deep within the recesses of his mind: The sound of her voice, the curve of her smile, the easy way interaction and connection came when they were together. The memory of holding her in his arms in a way he shouldn't have. The things that dreams still reminded him of, from time to time.

He'd wondered long ago if their paths would cross again and decided that if the Force willed it, so be it, but otherwise, he had made peace with the thought of never crossing paths again. He was of two minds: one half believed it would be for the best if they didn't meet again, because something about her called him into a part of himself he didn't recognize or understand how to navigate. The other half of his mind believed something about her presence was meant to be in his life, and he had no real evidence of that feeling other than his intuition. He hadn't allowed himself the luxury of hoping to see her again, sensing that it would be too telling to admit to himself that he would like to know how her life was going and to see her face again. And yet here they were.

Perhaps she had been a challenge to overcome and lesson to learn in his youth. Nearly seven years had passed, and Obi-Wan had certainly grown and changed since then. She most certainly had too.

Sabé reappeared about three and a half minutes later in a different set of clothing: a rugged nearly-black jumpsuit, matching boots, and dark blue tactical jacket. A multi-weapon holster was slung across her hips. Obi-Wan contemplated her mildly as she re-emerged, and he let go of his deeper thoughts in favor of the present moment. "Outfit changes," he observed. "Reminds me of when you played the queen."

"If we get caught, I don't want Padmé or Naboo associated with this," Sabé responded, all focus and preoccupation. She was already headed across the plush carpeted floor toward the lower suite exit, leaving Obi-Wan to follow. They passed by two Naboo officers who guarded the way out, and with a nod to them and a quick check out the doorway that the coast was clear, Sabé led the way. "Let's go." She set the pace at a brisk stride down the hall to the antechamber where the lifts and main streetways were, casting watchful glances around as they went. "How much information did you get about the lead from the Jedi end of things?" she asked in a voice only loud enough for the two of them to hear.

"Something about a claim that someone is running a very illegal droid factory somewhere in the city," he said. Sabé confirmed with a nod. "I assume it was deemed credible enough to investigate by your department, otherwise we wouldn't be here," Obi-Wan ventured, looking for more inside intel. RDI was a separate entity from the Jedi Order, and while the two agencies did work together at times, there hadn't been as many collaborative efforts between the two until the past two or so years. He was fairly certain that RDI kept the Order on a need-to-know basis.

Sabé sent him a darting sidelong glance. "I don't do any of the analyst side of things, but they're rarely wrong when they send us out to follow up on leads like this." They entered into the antechamber, a large multi-level hub that connected the underwater roadways and halls and provided a way to travel up and down levels. She punched the lift call button and cast another careful glance around. Barely anyone was out and about. "Tikkes personal residence is twenty levels up from here, not far."

The lift doors opened and they entered. "How long have you been an agent?" Obi-Wan asked, curious. It made sense to him that she would work intelligence, and from what little he could tell, she seemed to have a certain confidence in the role that came with a more seasoned experience.

She looked at him as she keyed in the level they were going to, and he was struck by how she still had the softness of youth in her late twenties, but was still very much markedly different than when he'd last seen her: Older, wiser, more harrowed. "A few years now, about five."

He nodded, remembering a conversation from years past. "So you went through with it." She hesitated, visibly trying to figure out what he was referring to. "The career change," he prompted, waiting for her to remember. The lift wooshed upward at dizzying speed.

Her expression softened, surprise making her blink once and then smile in an off guard, touched way. "You remembered." Their conversation on Cilpar, where she'd said she was thinking of leaving her Naboo security forces job behind. He remembered all that and more clearly, as if it had been only a few weeks ago.

"I have an excellent memory, Milady," Obi-Wan responded lightly in contrast to how meaningful it actually was. Her smile turned fractionally more conflicted. The lift stopped and he gave her a look to keep the mood casual. "Or I suppose I should say 'Agent.'" He wasn't exactly teasing her, but it came out that way. She said nothing, but gave him a similarly teasing look back. The door chimed, slid open, and they exited. This level was markedly luxurious and felt larger—the business district. With about ten levels of open-air above them before a chrome ceiling domed over everything, there was a good bit of activity. A few nearby restaurants, bars, and nightlife spots were full of people and there was a good amount of foot traffic, especially for the growing lateness of the hour. Sabé stopped to key a couple things into her wrist comm—probably checking for communications with her still missing RDI partner. "I'm beginning to think your partner is imaginary," Obi-Wan commented cheekily.

Sabé made a face that gave away some very real frustration and aggravation. "Oh don't worry. If history's any indicator, he'll turn up at a very inconvenient moment and proceed to bungle everything up." A small map projected from her wrist and she scrutinized it for a second, then led the way onward. "Two streets down." They went quickly, moving from the busy bar scene to quieter residential streets. Sabé stopped them across and down the way from a several-story gray house with the lights on. All gray, it matched the style of architecture popular here: peaks were rounded, no sharply defined edges or points were featured. Windows were long and thin, wrapping around the entirety of levels. "That's it—Tikkes residence. Do you see any security cameras?" Sabé asked, her eyes starting at the top of the structure and moving downward.

Obi-Wan spotted a very small round indentation near the entrance. "Yes, there's one there, right above the doorway."

Sabé saw it too. "Good eye."

"You have a way in, then?" Obi-Wan asked. He was curious about her approach and content to see how she worked rather than try to take any kind of lead at this point.

Sabé gave him a daring little look, pulling a tablet-sized device out of her pocket. "There's always a way in, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan indicated she should lead on. "After you then."

They crossed the street and approached from the side, Sabé stopping short of where Tikkes property began. She began typing in some commands and swiping around on the screen of her device until it gave an affirmative beep. If Obi-Wan wasn't mistaken, it was a hacking datapad. Very rare to get your hands on something like that for common folk. Sabé keyed in more commands, then another _beep beep_. "System's looping the security feed and doors are all unlocked," she said, pocketing the device and casting a final hooded glance around. "Let's go."

The door opened readily to the touch of the side of her hand—leaving no fingerprints—and they went inside. Sabé locked it behind them as Obi-Wan looked around. The two-level, vaulted ceiling home was lofty and elitist in decor, cold and unwelcoming. Nothing soft was in sight, only polished hard floors, marble statues, and stone art. "I think this is his study," Obi-Wan said, coming across a smaller room toward the back of the main area where a desk and tech station were located in a rounded alcove. A large, ridiculous statue of a Quarren warrior sat in the corner of the room, a menacing expression on the amphibious face. A stone bar with many exotic bottles of dark liquor sat on the other side of the room.

Quickly coming to join him, Sabé nodded and began to boot up the system, using her hacking datapad again to gain access to the password locked computer. Obi-Wan looked through the desk drawers and a stack of datapads nearby.

"What are we looking for, exactly?" he asked.

"It's one of those you'll-know-it-when-you-see-it things," Sabé said, beginning to scan through Tikkes various logs, transfers, and downloads for anything that jumped out at her. About ten very unfruitful minutes later, Sabé shook her head and cast an anxious look around. The chance of being discovered was only increasing. A sudden off-key notification chimed as she attempted to access another drive—an error sound. She grew far more interested, squinting at the holo readout in front of her. Obi-Wan leaned close too, intrigued. "Ah _ha_. This drive's been recently erased," Sabé said. "Maybe we can parse some files back if I download the datacore."

She drew out a small data transfer and storage device and hooked it up to the console, beginning the drive information transfer. "Artoo's processor might actually be powerful enough to be able to explicate some of this data," she muttered, halfway to herself.

Just then, Obi-Wan's senses alerted him and he straightened up, suddenly tense. "Someone's coming."

" _Now_?" Sabé whispered, immediately clawing her fingers into the device and watching the progress bar with nervous intensity. The door to the house wasn't visible from the study, but it was exposed enough that they ran the risk of being discovered easily.

"Well _yes_ now," Obi-Wan whispered back, not sure what else he would mean. "Can you hurry?" They heard the sound of the door to the house open, and the tension leapt up another couple notches.

" _Kriff,_ " Sabé breathed, not disconnecting yet, betting against the risk of being caught.

" _Sabé,_ " Obi-Wan hissed, indicating the large statue in the back corner of the room. Sabé still waited, tensed to move the second the drive was transferred. The tech station completed even as shadows loomed, indicated someone was about to come in, and Sabé all but ripped the device out and leapt into the hiding space provided by the statue where Obi-Wan crammed himself too. Pressed up against each other in the small space, their breathing sounded incredibly loud and despite the serious risk and danger of discovery, it was distinctly awkward with their faces a mere couple of inches away from each other. Sabé turned her head one way, and Obi-Wan the other.

Tikkes and an unknown Pydyrian came into the study, where Tikkes went to his bar and began to pour drinks. Sabé tapped a button on her chest, activating what Obi-Wan recognized as a recording device.

"And did she agree to leave?" the Pydyrian asked in a throaty, weak voice.

Tikkes scoffed aloud, disdain thick in his voice. "No, the Senator is as stubborn as she is ugly."

"And have you any idea if she has discovered any… incriminating information?"

Tikkes handed over a glass to his unknown friend. "Don't worry, Senator Wojaine." Sabé's eyebrows rose when she heard the title of the unknown Pydyrian. "Even if she has, I won't fail the Confederacy again. Within just a few moments, the whole disgusting lot will be dead, I've made sure of it." He chuckled lowly, and the two of them clinked glasses in a dismal cheers. "Let's see how long these landwalkers can hold their breath, hmm?"

Sabé looked at Obi-Wan in alarm. _We have to go,_ she mouthed.

Obi-Wan nodded and closed his eyes, concentrating. Somewhere on the other side and upper level of the house, there was a very loud crash. "What was that?!" Tikkes exclaimed, reaching into his robe for a weapon and moving to investigate. Sniveling behind him, the Pydyrian followed, also reaching for a weapon. Obi-Wan paused, then pulled Sabé along with him. This time, he led the way out, and they were able to slip out undetected thanks to him making something else crash, this time in the kitchen, drawing the two crooked senators into another part of the house.

Once they were outside, they began to run back toward the lifts. Sabé keyed a channel into her commlink as they went. "Typho! Captain Typho!"

"Typho here," came the reply.

"Do a sweep of your quarters, _now,"_ Sabé barked urgently through heavy breaths."Tikkes is going to try to have Padmé killed again, do you hear me?"

Typho's reply was short, but his tone conveyed that he understood how serious it was. "We'll lock down."

"I'm on my way, we'll be there in two minutes," Sabé said. "Get downstairs. You may need to get her offworld, Gregar."

"Copy."

They reached the lift and Sabé punched the button to go down more times than necessary. Her hair had become a little mussed and her urgency was marked by focus, not panic. "What do you think they're planning?" she asked Obi-Wan.

"Any number of foul things," Obi-Wan said, because anything was possible at this point. Bounty hunter? Poison? Bomb? This was turning into quite the plot with _two_ senators attempting to hide something now. "They _really_ don't want Padmé to speak tomorrow."

The lift arrived. "And all over a speech at a rally," Sabé muttered darkly, keying in the level command. They began to zoom downward. "This really isn't adding up." She then attempted again to hail her partner, and cursed foully when he again didn't reply. "Maybe something's happened to him," she remarked bleakly as they reached their level.

Together they sprinted down the hallway and requested access into Padmé's suites, where downstairs everyone was gathered, weapons out and looking nervous. "What's going on?" Padmé asked, alarmed, even as Sabé went straight in and began looking in common places for devices that shouldn't be there.

"Should we move the Senator or is it safer here?" Typho asked, crowding in on Obi-Wan with Padmé close by.

"We overheard Senator Tikkes saying everyone here would be dead within a few moments," Obi-Wan reported. "So I assume he plans to make the attempt here. _How_ , we're not sure."

Typho took two seconds to make the call, his gaunt expression left no room for argument as he turned toward Padmé. "I'm evacuating you, _now_." She didn't offer protest. "Everyone leave everything, we're going back to the ship until I know more," he said. Without a word, two of the four officers present drew their weapons and prepared to escort the Senator safely out. The group moved out quickly, almost at a jog, with Artoo taking up the rear and Obi-Wan watching to make sure everyone was getting out. That's when he began to sense a building, explosive energy. His eyes flew to a conduit unit on the wall that was quickly overloading—a bomb, effectively, that had been triggered remotely somehow.

" _Sabé_ ," he said sharply, a sense of urgency close to panic rising up in him even as she moved toward him. But even as he was about to shout at her to run, he realized it was too late. In one swift motion, he ran instead toward her, slamming her to the ground and covering her body protectively with his while flinging his hand out to Force-throw the device as far away as possible—toward the transparisteel wall. He used the Force as best he could to then shield them from the explosion that came not even a second later. A deafening roar and blast of heat came that rocked what felt like the entire world, making everything shudder as everything seemed to crumble and break. Alarms sounded and the doorway out sealed shut as the glass keeping the ocean out shattered apart—Obi-Wan threw his hand up, attempting to soften the surge of ocean water that came pouring in, shockingly cold as it slammed into what had been just a moment before a beautiful and luxurious room. Air ceased to exist as oceanwater took over, filling the entire space. The water was so powerful and fast that even though he held on tightly, Obi-Wan felt Sabé torn out of his grip as the ocean claimed the room and then sucked both of them out into the deep.

* * *

Head pounding from the explosion, Sabé felt herself rocketing like a ragdoll into icy open water. Confused and afraid, she was cartwheeling and desperately clawing for anything to hold onto against the powerful drag of wild ocean currents. Which way was up or down became unknown to her as she struggled to stop spinning in the brutal tide she was caught in.

 _Obi-Wan!_ Her mind seemed to scream—he'd been there a second ago. She struggled to comprehend what was happening. A moment ago she'd been giving a last look over the room for listening devices or traces of tampering or bombs. Then Obi-Wan had run at her, stunned her when he knocked her to the ground, then the explosion, then suddenly nothing but water. _We're a quarter mile beneath the surface or more_. Even if Sabé could somehow decipher which way was up or down, she couldn't swim that far without needing to breathe, and the pressure change was dangerous if too quickly done. Eyes open, blinking against salty water, she could see nothing but dark blue all around her and bubbles made by the way she flailed. There was always a solution, _always_. But here and right now… she saw no choice.

A terrible realization gripped her hard in an ice-cold fist: _This is how I die._ She immediately thought of her parents and how they died. They drowned, too. A strange, twisted symmetry. Her sister's face flashed through her mind's eye, the most important person in the galaxy. Her only family. Zana would be alone now, forever. With no goodbye, out of the blue. Heartbreak and regret for the way she had done things and not done things swallowed Sabé whole and she ceased moving, taken over by the strangest daze. She didn't want to die. She couldn't. Not yet. _Not yet._

She closed her eyes, grief hard in her chest. Soon she would gasp for air despite her best efforts—the body would just react, lungs would try to get oxygen. And then she would drown. A thousand memories and feelings surged through her as she prepared to take her last breath of water and die. The thing she saw and felt last? That stolen kiss with Obi-Wan, and the tenderness it had left in her soul itself.

And then suddenly, she heard him almost as clearly as if he were speaking to her. Obi-Wan.

_Where are you?_

Her eyes snapped open. Suddenly giving effort again, Sabé reached blindly, straining wildly both physically and mentally, trying to catch hold of hope, trying to survive.

_I'm here!_

She flailed, lungs burning and screaming for a breath, hands coming into contact with nothing and no one, eyes unable to see anything but dark cobalt water all around her.

And then there was a sudden blur of motion in front of her and she felt his hands, warm in comparison to the frigid water, grab hold of her wrists, pulling her close against him where he held on hard with one arm. Then a second later there was something metallic against her mouth. She recognized the feel immediately: A respirator. She gasped in hard and unsteady, clutching into his clothes as water swirled around them, threatening to pull them apart completely. He held on, refusing to let that happen. One, two, three breaths and she was able to steady herself and calm down. Again, she felt him speak to her in a way she couldn't hear with her ears.

_I have you._

Her wild heart beat began to slow down. Trading respirator turns to breathe, their arms remained locked around each other tightly. A veil of bubbles rose up from them as they ascended slowly at a controlled swim toward the freedom that the Mon Calamari ocean surface promised.


	17. A Thickening Plot

Two heads broke the surface of the Mon Calamari ocean, appearing as insignificant little dots beneath the soaring size and scope of Coral City structures above. Sputtering and gasping, Sabé gulped in cold night air and held tight to Obi-Wan as the choppy surface careened them up and down nauseatingly. Her senses were confused and disoriented, and the adrenaline rush, or perhaps the explosion and pressure change had made her feel weakened and sick.

"Over there!" Obi-Wan shouted against the sound of the waves. He was indicating a small ladder nearby that disappeared beneath the water then climbed upward to connect to the bottom of the city's main level. Sabé nodded as best she could and they began to swim as one, an arm around each other against the risk of being separated in the water otherwise. Snow swirled and pelted them, and the incredible coldness of the water made Sabé's teeth chatter and body shiver despite her best efforts. The surf splashed them, making it hard to see against stinging salt water and simultaneously leaving them to sputter against mouthfuls of ocean.

They made it to the ladder and Obi-Wan then all but shoved Sabé at it, ensuring she went first. She grabbed on with one hand and hauled him up behind her with the other before they began to climb. Her stiff fingers were like ice. Against the strong winds, Sabé felt numb to her bones and was shivering like a leaf in a hurricane. Ragged, disjointed thoughts about hypothermia and oxygen poisoning flew across her mind but she batted them away, knowing that concentrating on her actions was the only thing that would contribute to survival.

She came to where the ladder dead-ended into a screw-release portal and she wrapped an arm through a ladder rung to hold on then grabbed on hard with both hands and dug deep for the effort it took to open the hatch. With a great exclamation of effort, she managed it and the spring-loaded portal popped upwards and open. Sabé weakly climbed through and immediately turned around to help pull Obi-Wan up with the last reserves of her current strength. Sabé then fell back onto her back and elbows onto solid ground of a deserted sidewalk, panting hard with shaking muscles. She let her head fall back a few scant seconds as she closed her eyes and focused on the feeling of abundant air in her lungs. Soft, cold kisses of snow peppered her exposed skin. The horror she'd felt in that last moment of near-death stuck with her, making her feel a sort of fear she hadn't felt in a long time, the kind that left her feeling powerless and dizzy.

"Are you all right?" came a familiar voice, and Sabé opened her eyes to Obi-Wan, who was crouched beside her, worry in his eyes. Water droplets dripped off his face, and snow caught in his beard, leaving him devastatingly handsome even in such a dire moment. Shaken up and traumatized, Sabé could only realize one thing: he had just definitely saved her life. Without one single doubt.

"I—I thought that was the end," was all she could manage, unable to break the gaze between them as she remembered with vast confusion how she'd heard his voice in her mind while underwater. Had she imagined it? Had that been real? How was that even possible? She wanted to ask him about it. He touched a hand to her shoulder then, the concern in his eyes matching the gentle way he steadied her there. More confusion swept Sabé as she remembered the soulful kiss she'd shared with this man who had then told her it had essentially been some kind of mistake he would not repeat. Did he purposefully look at her and touch her this way to make her suffer? Or was she simply seeing things that weren't there?

She didn't have time to contemplate further, because she was suddenly struck by one single, terrifying thought. " _Padmé_ ," she said, her voice suddenly tight with urgency as she rolled to her side and pushed up awkwardly. Obi-Wan stood in tandem and watched with a shrewd expression as she hit a hand up against her commlink to shake off excess water. "Typho, are you there?" The device was waterproof, as most of her things were, but the speaker did sound very muffled and tinny when the equally anxious reply thankfully came.

"We're here—thank the gods you made it—we heard the explosion. Where are you?"

Sabé shook her head uncertainly, glancing around the nondescript street they'd come up into while pushing some wet hair stuck to her face away—her hair tie had come out at some point in the tide, leaving her dripping shoulder-blade length hair wild. "Not sure, but I'll find out."

"We're going to the ship to do an orbit until we sort everything out," Gregar said. "Should I wait for you two?"

Sabé hesitated, her wits returning as she thought the situation over. "No," she replied as focus returned and her strength renewed and leveled out. She had Tikkes on audio saying he intended to have Padmé killed— _and_ evidence of the attempt _and_ multiple witnesses who could confirm that he'd made good on that statement with the bombing of Padmé's quarters. She was suddenly feeling much more herself as a plan formed in her mind. "I have an arrest to make." She cut the transmission decisively then got out her blaster and squinted one eye down the barrel, checking the readout to make sure the water hadn't jammed it.

She turned to ask Obi-Wan if he would join her, but he answered before she even asked. "I'm with you. Let's go."

* * *

Sabé and Obi-Wan all but kicked down the door of Tikkes' residence, expecting to find him there, since they _had_ just been there not even fifteen minutes prior. But instead, the home was empty, and in fact, looked as thought a hurried exit had been made. As Sabé checked the rooms with her blaster trained for potential threats or unexpected encounters, she saw clothing and belongings strewn around, and evidence of things missing that someone would take with them if they were leaving for a long time—his tech station in his study had been stripped and his personal safe was left open and empty. Obi-Wan shadowed her and covered her back, his lightsaber handy but not ignited. They finished the sweep with a look into the final room, a very fancy and stark kitchen. Sabé was about to frustratedly declare that no one was there when a sound in what seemed to be the pantry caused her to switch to high alert and signal Obi-Wan.

He heard it too and nodded and got ready to open the door, mouthing _one-two-three_! as Sabé held her blaster ready to fire at any sign of attack or threat.

The door swung open at the count of three to reveal… "… _Rett_?!" Sabé exclaimed, blaster immediately going to the holster. He was gagged and tied to a chair with rope. Sabé was already tearing his gag off.

"About time, I thought I was gonna rot in this damn pantry!" he exclaimed as Sabé took in his appearance with a temporarily baffled expression. He was sweaty and had a red mark on his forehead, evidence of some kind of attack.

"I take it you two know each other," Obi-Wan commented, watching Sabé pull out her knife and cut her partner free.

" _This_ is my imaginary partner, Rett Chronos," Sabé said darkly, then fixed Rett with a dangerous expression as he stood up and rubbed against his rope burn wincingly. "How did this happen?" she demanded, as if it were somehow his fault.

He shook his head as he moved to stand more centrally in the kitchen. "I dunno, I got hit in the head at the reception then woke up here. Heard that Tikkes guy in here, I think, I guess it was him or one of his cronies." He peered at Sabé and then Obi-Wan oddly. "Why are you all _wet_?"

Sabé ignored the question, fractionally pissed off at his priorities at such a dire moment. "Where is he now, Rett? Did you hear? Did he leave? And how long ago?"

"Yeah think so," Rett said, taking much too long to answer. "Said something about leaving the planet. You just missed him, pretty much."

Sabé swore lowly, thinking fast. "Perhaps he heard that Padmé survived," Obi-Wan offered.

"He doesn't even know we were _here_ in his house and or that we have evidence of him incriminating himself," Sabé countered. Something wasn't right here. But it didn't matter. She was already off at a brisk stride. Part of the intel package given to her by RDI was a rundown of where persons of interest, including Tikkes, came and went from. Personal launchpads, spaceports they frequented, etc. Pulling out her wet datapad and thanking the stars it was waterproof, Sabé quickly looked in her files for where Tikkes would most likely make his escape from. She found it within thirty seconds. "The business district space dock down in sector six, it's a few blocks from here past the antechamber. Let's go!"

* * *

The three of them ran the entire way, making it to the very small and exclusive spaceport just in time to see a Mon Calamari Corvette cruiser blast off into space—and all three stopped short, seeing that no other ships currently were docked there. Tikkes had gotten away.

Out of breath from the run and still damp and cold, Sabé's chest heaved as she stared after the escaped senator. She was at a total loss. How had Tikkes even known to flee? Who had tipped him off?

"Damn." Nearby, Rett ran a hand through his tousled hair as he watched the departing ship. Past him, Obi-Wan's noble profile scrutinized the escaped ship with a puzzled, troubled expression.

Hooded eyes drawn to her partner, Sabé pulled her commlink up to her lips. "Gregar, come get us from the location I'm about to send you."

A familiar voice replied a couple seconds later. "A please would be nice, Nebira."

Sabé's expression was hard to place—somewhere between impatient and slightly endeared. " _Now_ , Typho." She switched off the communication and shivered, momentarily hoping she'd be able to borrow something dry and warm from Padmé, _if_ there was anything left on board. That explosion had taken quite a lot of luggage and supplies with it, not to mention a whole other case of Sabé's agent gear. Disappointed in herself and how much of a mess this mission had become, Sabé withdrew into vexed silence as she studied middle distance unseeingly.

"So do I get an introduction?" Rett asked. Sabé looked at him and blinked twice, unsure what he meant, then realized what she'd overlooked entirely.

Obi-Wan, ever the patient and watchful one, took it upon himself to give his introduction, accompanying it with an incline of the head toward Sabé's current partner. "Obi-Wan Kenobi."

Rett nodded, sizing the other man up. "You an agent, or…?"

"He's our Jedi contact," Sabé said, her impatient tone strongly implying he should have already figured that out.

"Oh yeah," Rett said, flashing a grin and putting his hand out in greeting. "Nice to meet you."

Obi-Wan was distinctly reserved as he returned the gesture in kind. "Likewise, I'm sure." Sabé eyed him thoughtfully, the icy wind from the open air spaceport causing her to shiver again and clench her teeth. In her experience, Obi-Wan was friendly and open and congenial, but now that she thought it all over, that was really only when they were one-on-one. Mentally running through every time she'd seen him speak to others and comparing it against how their interactions together were—which were _completely_ different—she began to stare outright as she realized what she never had before. That she and Obi-Wan had a much deeper and more familiar relationship than she'd realized before, if her theory was right. A thought she had never articulated to herself before. A thought that made her feel a spike of… something very strong indeed.

"So what's next, boss?" Rett's voice startled her out of her thoughts, and with both men looking at her expectantly, Sabé was under immediate, uncomfortable pressure to perform.

Eyes darting, Sabé had to put on a mask of focus despite her other thoughts. "I'm… going to see if Artoo can parse any of the deleted drive I copied," she said, checking to make sure it was still in her zippered jacket pocket. It was. "I have a feeling there's incriminating information waiting to be discovered." Her mood began to lift a bit as she realized that even without Tikkes, they still had a case here and the possibility of finding that alleged droid factory. That, and she was glad of something to distract her from this damned overthinking about Obi-Wan. She paused, her optimism faltering. " _If_ it can be recovered."

* * *

 _Victorious_ arrived a few moments later and swept Sabé, Obi-Wan, and Rett up before jettisoning up off into the safety of space. There, Sabé loaded the drive she'd copied into Artoo and began the recovery attempt process and briefly discussed with Padmé and Typho their next move, which was to alert city officials (once the hour was proper) about what had happened and wait and see what to do next concerning the rally. It was now around midnight local time if not a bit later, so everyone would sleep, rest, and wait until then.

Padmé brought Sabé a spare outfit before she turned in—a dark gray flightsuit and one of Dormé's hooded dark blue velvet cloaks. After showering and drying her hair and body alike, Sabé felt much better and warmer and ready to turn the mission around to something more successful. She didn't bother with the hood, but certainly enjoyed the coziness Dormé's cloak provided. While Sabé might have not fussed with doing much with her hair otherwise—she usually settled for a simple tied back bun, a horsetail, or a side braid—she'd impulsively decided to leave half down and take the other half back via a series of two smaller braids criss-crossing against a bigger one. All the braids hung down freely to the lengths of her loose hair, resulting in a more elegant and pretty style. She hadn't done anything fancy with her hair in years, so it took a few tries to remember how to do a couple of spots, and she ended up having to ask Dormé for assistance. A funny turn-around situation, since Sabé had assisted with Dormé's defense and security training just before she'd left the forces for RDI.

Once Sabé was presentable again, she went to the tech lounge portion of the ship where she'd left Artoo, hoping to check on the process. There, she forgot her mission when she found Obi-Wan sitting casually with one ankle crossed over his knee, deeply engrossed in a datapad. He had dried off and changed outfits as well—and he was in what looked to be one of Gregar's uniforms, minus the hat. The sight of him like in the familiar uniform of her homeworld caused an unexpectedly intense moment of tenderness and pause as Sabé hovered in the doorway. She could somehow imagine immediately if he'd been a Naboo citizen all his life then a forces officer and all the possibilities that might have come along with that, too. It was a feeling like nostalgia, but for something that had never existed.

Obi-Wan looked up just then, and he took in her change. "You look like you're feeling better," he observed, and she could have sworn he appeared similarly nostalgic to her.

Nervous that her thoughts were plain on her face, Sabé tried a nonplussed smile. "I am." She headed toward the nearby kitchenette, knowing that doing something would break up the tension. That and she was getting tired and needed a boost—she already knew sleep wasn't going to be possible for her tonight. "You want some caf?"

"Yes, thank you."

"How do you take it?" Sabé asked, checking the caf brewer and seeing that everything was set to begin.

"Black please," Obi-Wan replied. Sabé smiled a little to herself. Of course he wanted the beverage straightforward and undoctored. It seemed perfectly fitting of him. Even though Sabé remained focused on programming the device then starting it, she could feel his gaze remaining on her. "Your partner seems… well, I can't put my finger on it exactly," he said, his tone giving away his stance on it.

Sabé all but snorted. "I agree completely." She finally chanced meeting Obi-Wan's gaze. "He's useless Obi-Wan. Absolutely useless," she said, then regretted herself. She was basically complaining and then left to fear Obi-Wan would judge her for it. So she cracked a joke as the caf began to stream out into the waiting carafe. "I'd rather have _Jar Jar_ as a partner."

Obi-Wan's face pulled quite the expression. "Oh gods, Jar Jar. I'd somehow forgotten about him. How is he, do you know?"

She was surprised he didn't know but also a bit gleeful to be the one to tell him and see his reaction. "Oh yes," Sabé said, a smile playing on her lips. "He's a junior representative of Naboo, and apparently works for Padmé from time to time."

Obi-Wan did indeed look taken aback and for several long seconds, he tried to think of a reply. He finally settled on: "I'm quite frankly left speechless."

Sabé chuckled deep in her throat. The caf machine beeped, signaling completion. "Perfect time for some caf then, hmm?"

She brought two steaming mugs over, both black—that's also how she took it unless she was in some kind of special mood. Obi-Wan received his with an appreciative smile. "Thank you."

Sitting opposite of him on another lounge, Sabé blew across the surface of the hot beverage, contemplating Artoo for a moment—the little astromech was still processing with probably a few hours left to go on a full rebuild of the entire drive. It was difficult to say if information would be there or not. And even if it _were_ there, would it be useful? She could only remain hopeful at this point.

"Where did you partner go?" Obi-Wan asked presently, sipping delicately at his caf.

"That's the question of the hour, isn't it?" Sabé returned glibly, then shook her head with a sigh. "Probably flirting with one of Padmé's handmaidens if they're still awake."

Obi-Wan paid little attention to her jab, his eyes inquisitive and slightly narrowed. He set his caf down onto the table beside him and leaned forward a bit, shifting the mood entirely. "Do you trust him?"

The sudden question and its directness surprised her. Sabé took a long moment to study him, wondering at his angle. She knew he didn't mean did she trust Rett with the handmaidens to behave himself. Obi-Wan was asking on a much deeper level. If it had been anyone else, she wouldn't have answered because of suspicion. But for Obi-Wan? The truth was easy to tell and she didn't fear that it would be used against her. Despite her nature, she somehow didn't feel suspicious in any way. "No."

Obi-Wan nodded thoughtfully. "I didn't think so." He took his caf mug up again and sent her a meaningful, almost warning look. "And I think you're right not to."

There was a prick of morbid interest and Sabé's eyes narrowed. "Do you know something I don't?" she asked. In the game of politics which they were _all_ involved, Sabé would be surprised at very little.

But Obi-Wan merely shook his head. "No. I only have my instincts." Sabé had often felt the same about Rett, but hearing this from someone else left a disquieting effect. Then his next statement: "Be careful, will you?"

It was uncanny how this Jedi could pop back up into her life so suddenly and leave her to feel like he'd never been gone at all. And it was unnerving, the way he looked at her when he asked her that question. "I'll do my best," Sabé replied momentarily, again unable to break the gaze. He mystified her, in ways that were both frustrating and almost addicting in nature. It still astonished her that out of all the Jedi in the Order, _he_ was the one here with her. Millions of starsystems, trillions of beings in the galaxy, and yet here they were, for the third time, drawn together by seeming chance. It blew her mind completely. In the same vein, the explosion and the subsequent expulsion into deep ocean flew across her mind again. "You… saved my life today, Obi-Wan," she murmured, thinking of his voice present in her mind so clearly. "If you hadn't been there…" well. They both knew what the outcome would have been. She tried to lighten the conversation with a halfhearted joking statement. "Let's just say it's very handy to have a Jedi around sometimes."

Obi-Wan's eyes crinkled slightly to match the soft smile as he looked down at his caf. "It seems a hallmark of our times together, doesn't it?" he asked. "Near death experiences." He peered back up at her.

Still deep in thought, Sabé's smile back was distracted and brief. It felt like they were dancing around something. "You're not wrong."

As she sipped her caf, Obi-Wan was silent and watchful, his eyes missing nothing. "Are you sure you're all right?" he asked after a moment.

Her eyes flicking back up to meet his, and she debated asking him what she so badly wanted to know. "I will be," she said, pulse beginning to pick up. She thought if she didn't gather her courage to ask him now, she never might. So, she plunged ahead. "Obi-Wan, when we were underwater… I… I think I heard you somehow."

He didn't look astonished or confused like she'd imagined he might. Instead, he looked calm and rational. "Yes, I believe you did."

A little taken aback at his response, Sabé frowned. "And… did you hear me?" she ventured carefully.

Again, he answered readily. "Yes I did." But, this time there was a twinge of something to his expression. Hesitation.

"… _how_?" Sabé asked, voice lowering to a whisper, as if they were discussing something secret and forbidden. "Isn't that only the kind of thing a Jedi or Force user could do?"

Obi-Wan set down his mug again, eyes following it. "Not necessarily." His gaze lifted to look into hers again, and she saw the subtle way his eyes went back and forth as he looked from her left to right eye in contemplation. "Some beings, for reasons unknown," he finally explained, "experience elevated levels of connection to each other. Force sensitive or not."

When he said nothing else, Sabé followed his statement to what she thought he was getting at, although she was fearful she was only going to embarrass herself. "And are you saying that _we_ have that elevated level of connection…?" she asked, feeling tightly drawn as she waited for his answer.

"Well, yes," he said, but he was no longer factual. He seemed like he was phrasing himself carefully and holding some part of himself back. The ghost of a smile appeared on his face when her astonishment showed. "You're really just _now_ figuring it out?" he asked ever so softly, a bittersweetly asked question that in all honestly shocked her. Not so much that he wondered, but that he would dare ask it that way. It acknowledged things she thought weren't up for discussion, things she thought were forbidden or scandalous. Her mind flashed memories of his touch to her face and the sensations it had left on Tatooine, the inexplicable surge of grief across the distance she'd felt from him when Qui-Gon died, the kiss they'd been helpless to escape from after Cilpar, and now hearing his voice in her mind underwater and communicating back to him, too. And yet his question of if she was just now figuring it out felt so intimate and private. His expression, which had seemed quietly confident and knowing just a moment ago, was growing more apprehensive. Could he sense her feelings?

Swallowing against a suddenly dry mouth, Sabé shook her head shallowly. "Sometimes the things you say…" she said, then trailed off, unable to think of how to describe what she was feeling.

Obi-Wan looked uncharacteristically anxious, like he'd gotten himself into something he hadn't meant to, but still couldn't resist following the path to its conclusion. "What?" he all but whispered.

She wet her lips, unable to take her eyes off his, hooked into the moment completely. "In a different lifetime," she said, using the very phrase he'd used to her years ago after their kiss, "I'd wonder a lot more about what they meant." Her voice lowered further, barely above a breath. "And I think I'd have a lot more to say back, too."

Her words hung there between them and tense silence ensued. The truth was, in this lifetime, she still did wonder, even though she knew she probably shouldn't. Sabé's heartbeat was in her ears, her blood felt fuzzy in her veins, and she didn't know what to say or even how that moment between them had turned from friendly and normal to… _that_. She could sense somehow that Obi-Wan was feeling the same. This inexplicable connection they'd discovered nearly ten years ago during the Naboo crisis quite frankly frightened Sabé at this point with its ever-increasing intensity. Even more disconcerting was the way it clearly frightened Obi-Wan. The places this could go, the path it could lead down… Sabé was no fool. But she was also only human, and somehow the more afraid she was of this intensity between them, the more she wanted to know exactly how far it went. It was so much more than a physical attraction, although that was certainly part of it. But beyond that, there was a longing she couldn't name or quench aching deep in her chest. A longing that she knew only he could ever alleviate. After all… she thought she was going to die, and her very last thought of all… had been of him.

Artoo suddenly gave a series of beeps, and both Obi-Wan and Sabé were disproportionally startled as if they'd been caught red-handed. Thankful for the interruption but completely flustered, Sabé almost knocked her caf over in her haste to go see what the droid was carrying on about.

Sabé examined what Artoo was projecting, at first just for show, barely remembering how to do anything for a few seconds… until the astromech projected a single file he had recovered for her to see via his holo display. "That was quick, my friend," she murmured, curiosity and interest helping her mind switch tracks. She squinted at the readout and requested an enlargement even as she heard Obi-Wan stand up to come see too. Sabé's eyes took in what looked like a blueprint, and turning her head sideways, she began to make sense of it. "It's a blueprint of what looks like a factory…" she said, halfway to herself and halfway to Obi-Wan. She grew much more excited as she realized what else was lettered at the bottom of the blueprint, "and a sector location!" she exclaimed, jumping to her feet. "Obi-Wan, I think this is the droid production factory my department got the tips on! We have to go back to the surface and investigate, _now_." His expression was solemn, caught between two places, and hers fell to match. The two of them regarded each other for a moment, each no doubt thinking of what had just transpired between them. Whatever that had been, Sabé knew they couldn't dwell on it, or possibly ever even speak of it again. So she gathered herself and steeled her expression then swept her cloak aside, checking her gear belt on the flight suit underneath. She was already heading to the bridge to get the pilot to return them to Coral City. Everything else would have to wait.


	18. Ominous Discovery

An unassuming little group—two men, a woman in a dark velvet cloak, and a blue-and-white astromech droid—stole their way through the very lowest levels of Coral City's neglected regions. The dark streets down in this abandoned area of the city were eerily empty and completely devoid of any signs of life besides munkrats that ran from shadow to shadow. The derelict conditions here included broken and burnt out street lamps, rusted and littered structures, and condemned old businesses and warehouse units. This deep underwater, the entire city echoed with sounds of creaking as the outside ocean tides pressed inward… a reminder that Sabé did _not_ appreciate after the near-drowning earlier.

Getting down to this level had not been easy or quick. Sabé, Obi-Wan, Rett, and Artoo had taken the bullet lift down as far as it would go, then had to find their way down manually through a series of old hatches and alleyway connections. It was probable that if there _were_ a secret droid factory down here, there was some sort of secret passageway that those in the know would, well, know. Otherwise, it had been difficult to get to this area.

Leading the way toward where the blueprint had marked, Sabé kept an outward front of complete focus to the task at hand: laying eyes on this supposed droid factory. Bringing Artoo along, with Padmé's permission of course, had been a last minute decision of Sabé's for a couple of reasons. One, she theorized that they might have an easier time if he was there should they run into any socket-controlled panels or doorways. Two, if Artoo managed to restore any other files relevant to this investigation, Sabé wanted to know _immediately_.

The group turned another corner, coming to a huge, dead end tunnel where an imposingly large blast door was sealed shut. "Here," she whispered, voice echoing softly in the dank air around them. She again checked the coordinates that were on the blueprint. 11-38. That matched up with the navigation system that was integrated into her wrist comm. Whatever Tikkes had wanted to hide… this was part of it. They approached cautiously and Sabé stared up at the intimidating doorway, her pulse picking up as the hunt closed in. What would they find behind that door? No visible security cameras or guards were present, nor any sort of noise to indicate activity inside. _This could be a complete bust of a lead,_ she reasoned. But, there was only one way to find out. Her eyes flicked to the socket control near the high security entry panel.

"Artoo." The little droid moaned nervously, wheeling closer to her and swiveling his dome. "Can you see if you can open that door without raising any alarms?" Sabé asked. The droid complied, rolling forward and extending a metal appendage, plugging into the socket there and going to work.

With one hand on her chin and the other one cupping her elbow, Sabé apprehensively watched, her nerves picking up. Beside her, Rett gawked around skeptically and Obi-Wan watched Artoo with a neutral expression. Sabé avoided looking at him at all, the awkwardness from that moment aboard the ship causing her a lot of discomfort and regret. On the way here, she'd realized his comment about their connection most likely hadn't been meant how she took it. Her immediate reaction to his assertion about them having an organically strong connection had been to interpret it _romantically_. After thinking about it a few moments, she'd realized he hadn't worded it that way at all, and she had possibly made a gigantic fool of herself. Humiliation had immediately set in. The sort of humiliation that caused a sick feeling stomach and hot skin and self-loathing. Sabé was equal parts impressed that she was capable of feeling that way at all (it had been years since she'd felt so stupid) and resentful of herself for being so ridiculous. Still… there was a part of her insisting that of _course_ he had meant it how she took it—the look in his eyes had said it all. The ghost of his kiss on her lips confirmed it. The exchange haunted her briefly.

Sabé shook herself mentally. She _had_ to stop thinking about the whole thing. It didn't matter. She was clear on where he stood—and whatever feelings either of them had or didn't have weren't relevant to this moment. It had to be set aside.

Artoo gave a triumphant whistle just then and the doors hissed, the pressure unsealing as the two massive plates of metal began to slink back from their closed position. A hand hovering near her blaster just at her hip, Sabé's senses heightened. On either side of her, she felt Obi-Wan and Rett doing the same, ready to spring into action if threats presented themselves. But as the door finished opening, they realized that their preparation was not needed. A very large and dark space laid beyond, dimly illuminated by a round skylight above where moonlit blue ocean light filtered in weakly. The investigators moved in cautiously, taking in the gigantic warehouse they'd found and all the indistinct shapes lurking in darkness. Although it was mostly empty, as their eyes adjusted Sabé could see there were large metal mechanisms used in production lines. Something _had_ been being produced here at some point. Artoo whistled apprehensively, a sound that Sabé could identify with. Their footsteps echoed, and somewhere, water dripped.

"Well this is a whole lot of nothing," Rett muttered, kicking an errant piece of trash with his boot.

Sabé made no reply. She went up to one of the massive, lifeless pieces of machinery, trying to fathom what exactly it did, running a few fingers along it. Her fingers met smooth, untarnished metal. This wasn't nothing. Far from it.

"It would be rusted over if it wasn't something put here recently," Obi-Wan said nearby, following her silent line of logic. He was crouched to run his fingers across a drainage grate in the floor. The metal of that grate was rusted—obviously having been here a much longer time than the machinery. Sabé and Obi-Wan's similarly shrewd and thoughtful gazes met briefly as they both silently theorized.

"Hey, I think that's some kind of transport waterlock towards the back," Rett said, having gone a little further into where the darkness was deeper.

Sabé pulled her blaster out, activating the installed flashlight that was just below the barrel. She advanced toward where Rett was, sweeping the beam over what did, indeed, look like a waterlock. Similar to an airlock, a waterlock was designed to allow underwater transport to transition from water to air without causing flooding. And this waterlock was, from what she could tell, _enormous._ Sabé drifted even closer, running the small beam of light over the structure as understanding developed. She felt Obi-Wan close by, and spoke aloud both to herself and to him. "If they _were_ assembling battle droids or weapons here, this is how they got them out." She really felt they were onto something, but—

Just then, Artoo gave a startling sound like a scream and immediately terrified by the unexpected shrill cry, Sabé whirled, weapon trained on the movement her eye caught. "Whoa, _whoa_ , sorry, I ran into it!" Rett exclaimed, squinting and holding his hands up against the beam of light in his eyes. "Take that thing off me!"

Sabé did lower the blaster, however went to check Artoo either way. She didn't understand binary, so his beeps and clicks meant nothing to her, but she _could_ tell he had been startled from the chirping, agitated tone of his programmed sounds. "Jumpy today, aren't you," she murmured flatly, sending a scant, dark glance at Rett. She hadn't _heard_ him run into the droid, and Rett wore an outfit that integrated hard pieces of duraplast along certain parts of his body, like his shins and thighs. It was for aesthetics but also provided light armor effect. Sabé said nothing though, cataloguing that information into the vault of suspicions she had secretly carried for quite awhile now.

On edge, she turned her attention to the nearby empty space leading up to what looked like some oversized garbage bins. Taking a few careful steps that way, she still managed to bump a foot into something hard that went skittering across the barren floor. Putting her flashlight on it, Sabé's tight expression fell. She slowly went to the object and crouched down, taking hold of her dire discovery. The ghost of the past was in her hand: it was a battle droid's head. Without even meaning to, her mind flashed back to memories of the battle for Naboo. Her eyes raised and locked onto the adjacent garbage bins. In a trance, she rose and went over slowly, the droid's head still on her hand. The bins were almost as tall as she was. She put her foot in a notch, kicked off the ground, and grabbed onto the top edge of the metal bin with her free hand, finding another footing and hauling herself up high enough to see down into the garbage. There, she saw a tangle of discarded and defective droid parts, leftovers from hurried production. She let out a soft breath she hadn't known she was holding, barely able to believe it. Immediately, she tucked the droid's head into her armpit and brought her multi-featured comm up. She began to document the scene.

"What is it?" Obi-Wan asked, hovering close by. A bit further off, Rett waited tensely.

Sabé took a few more stills and then gracefully kicked off and jumped the few feet to the ground, the battle droid's head still in her hand held gravely on display for them both to see. She said nothing, knowing she didn't need to. They had indeed found a secret droid production factory. The question was… who was the buyer? And how many had been made here?

* * *

A few hours later, Sabé had taken the discovery of the droid factory and accomplished the following:

She had directed Obi-Wan and Rett to look over every inch of the warehouse with her and in doing so, they had found discarded blaster and ion cannon components in addition to droid parts.

She had Artoo scan the tech station—but it was all erased and irretrievable. She had then accessed the waterlock log—which had _not_ been deleted—to see how many times and when the portal had opened and closed to allow entrance and exit. The last time it had been operated was three days prior, and before then, it had been opened and closed upwards of a hundred times within the span of the two weeks prior.

She had then contacted RDI experts back on Coruscant and sent footage of the machinery and the parts found. Intelligence had run estimates using the machinery count, the size of the space, and the waterlock logs to try and find a ballpark figure on how many droids and weapons might have been produced. It was enough that Sabé got patched through to her direct superior and given the order to get local RDI jurisdiction involved to lock down the scene and await a full investigation.

They then made their way back up to the main levels of Coral City, where by this time sunrise would come soon. Sabé sent Artoo to meet back up with Padmé's ship and then led the way to the federal district of Coral City.

That was where Obi-Wan currently waited, in the quiet lobby of the Republic Department of Intelligence building, which had opened before hours after Sabé had contacted the local director on his emergency channel. The building was tall and proud on the outside, and in the stately interior, polished black and white details put forth a distinguished and minimal aesthetic. Sabé, Rett, and the local RDI agents were finishing speaking in a nearby conference room out of the earshot and eyeline of Obi-Wan—who amusingly enough was told he didn't have the clearance level or something like that. The Jedi master thought over this whirlwind mission as he bided his time, seated on a marble bench near the glass doorways out. Every time he encountered Sabé, he found more to admire about her, and this time was no different. He only had growing appreciation for her prowess, skill, and natural knack for thinking on her feet. His mind turned to her partner, and his thoughts darkened measurably. Rett was full of great conflict and fear. There was something distinctly untrustworthy about him.

Sabé and Rett reappeared finally, Sabé bidding a polite farewell to the three RDI agents who had shown up to receive them. Rett gave a casual and lazy salute to those agents as he walked off from them. Sabé followed after him shortly, irritation directed at him clear on her features. Standing to greet them, Obi-Wan waited curiously to hear what, if anything, he would be let in on. Interestingly enough, Rett gave Obi-Wan a chin thrusting single nod as he passed right by, leaving the building completely with nothing further. His cavalier attitude left much to be desired. Obi-Wan watched the tall man's broad shoulders as he exited the glass doors and jogged lightly down the few stairs leading in, then sauntered away as if he didn't have a care in the world.

Obi-Wan turned his attention to Sabé, whose heavy cloak hung about her like a secret as she approached. "Well, I have transportation lined up for Rett and I in three hours once the rental port opens," she said as she reached him, and he could hear the weariness in her voice. "And as far as what we found, Andros—my superior—wants me back within twenty-four hours for the next directive. I think he's going to take the investigation more official rather than covert now that we know that Tikkes was trying to hide this factory of his, attempted to kill a Senate member, _and_ appears to have fled."

"I see," Obi-Wan replied considerately, then grew a shade more lighthearted. "I assume that means you're releasing me."

She confirmed with a gracious smile and sweep of her hands. "Be free, my friend."

He chuckled lowly at the choice words, not for the first time studying her in a close and curious way. "Can I ask what you'll be doing for the three hours before you depart?" he asked, a smile playing behind his beard. "Or do I not have the clearance to know that?"

A helpless, apologetic little expression came over Sabé's face. She'd actually argued that Obi-Wan didn't need clearance and the formality of such was needless in the situation, but the other RDI agents had disagreed. "Well, I need more caf and some food before I fall over, so…" she nodded and looked through the glass at a diner visible across the way. It appeared to be one of those twenty-four-seven places. Obi-Wan's stomach appreciated the thought of food, but…

He hesitated, caught in an immediate and intense battle between his personal wants and his rationale. His instincts warned him that he was toying with something dangerous every time he spent time with this woman, and that there was no real _need_ to go have a meal with her—he was selfishly tempting fate by seeking to spend time with her. He already knew several times over that for whatever reason, his guard and control came down when he was around Sabé. It wasn't her fault either, which was the part that made it difficult and frustrating. He liked her—he always had. Her company was enjoyable and easy to take part in, and the quality of their friendship was indisputable to him at this point. That wasn't the issue. The issue was that persistent, slow draw between them that they both felt. How many times over in the past nearly seven years had Obi-Wan wanted to reach out to her and know how she was? How many times had he seen something in the publications he thought she'd like to know about or think was amusing? How many times had memories of her cut across his mind out of nowhere, leaving him feeling at first warm, but then hollow, like something was missing?

Despite his feelings, he knew she wasn't purposefully putting him in the position that he was in. Maybe what he wanted most of all was to ensure that their friendship wouldn't suffer—they had parted on tense terms on Naboo last, and it had bothered him for—well, it _still_ bothered him. Perhaps he wouldn't see her for years again after today. That thought struck quite the chord in him, and he knew then clearly that parting on shaky ground after the awkwardness aboard _Victorious_ simply wouldn't do. He had felt things radiating off of her all night since then, try as he might to focus on only his own feelings. She was humiliated and wounded, and it was because of his carelessness of words. He could have told her about their elevated connection in a way that wouldn't have caused her to feel this way. Knowing the sadness and stress she was experiencing was partly because of him, Obi-Wan was caused great empathy and spurred to do something about it. He hesitated once more, his intentions and reservations conflicting. Qui-Gon's advice given years and years ago suddenly came to mind: " _Meet yourself. Do it curiously, compassionately. Can you give yourself the bravery to break away from the safety of the commonly tread path? Trust the Force to show you who you are._ " It then hit him like a lightning bolt: Obi-Wan realized that up until now, he had only been thinking. Not feeling. He reached into the Force, seeking clarity in the infinite pure energy that was there. He felt immediate peace and encouragement, a calling forward. And just like that, Obi-Wan's reservations fell away. "Would you like some company?" he asked Sabé tentatively, aware that she might refuse to save face or something to that effect. "I'm hungry too."

He saw her great surprise at his question that slowly shifted to relief and the softest of real smiles. "Yes," she said warmly, releasing him from a tense feeling he hadn't known he was holding onto. "Of course I would." Something about her relaxed then, which in turn relaxed him too.

Obi-Wan was amazed. His reservations had all been from his thinking mind. Not his feeling Force senses. _I still have much to learn,_ he thought in good-humored wryness to himself as he and Sabé exited the building and crossed the snowy courtyard to the diner. It had snowed heavily overnight, leaving accumulation building. For the time being, Obi-Wan cleared his mind in favor of functioning in the present moment. The diner was a cozy and delicious-smelling place with plush booths beside generous sized windows and shining tables. There weren't many other diners there that early in the morning. Sabé and Obi-Wan sat across from each other at one of the booths away from others and a wait-droid brought menus, a fresh carafe of robust caf, and took their prompt, decisive orders.

As the droid wheeled away to put the orders in, Sabé slumped a bit into her seat—like she was finally giving herself permission to disarm. Outside, snow swirled by as the sky lightened gradually above.

"Not the most successful mission, was it," Obi-Wan asked conversationally as he poured them both a cup of caf. He could sense her conflict and disappointment, especially about Tikkes escaping.

Sabé took hold of her caf idly with one hand, watching the steam rise with a very distracted frown. "I'm not sure. A lot of things about this whole ordeal are really bothering me." She sighed and shrugged, her eyes meeting his and her focus visibly returning to the moment. "I'd rather keep investigating but. You know. _Orders._ "

He did know, and an understanding chuckle sounded in his throat. "Yes, I'm familiar."

Her guarded but hopeful eyes studied his. "Well. This is unexpectedly nice either way. A moment to catch up with an old friend before returning to the nonstop grind back home."

Obi-Wan did heartily agree, and was glad she felt the same. He commented on a very last part of what she'd said though. "You really must be integrated to feel that Coruscant's home now," he mused. "It's so different than Naboo. How do you find it?"

Sabé's face slowly screwed up into something like a grimace as she thought her reply over. "Generally… awful." A joint chuckle floated between them at her animated opinion. " _But,_ I get to go offworld on missions enough to keep me from going too crazy. And I really do enjoy the Botanical Preserve over in the arts district—have you ever been?"

The Preserve—he hadn't thought of it in years, but he could picture her there immediately, her graceful height small in comparison to the giant greenhouse complex where exotic trees the measure of buildings were tended in climate-controlled spaces, with flowers and ivy and all manner of other natural wonders flourishing artfully throughout. "I must confess, not in years," he replied, feeling nostalgia tug at him momentarily. "I think I may have to schedule a visit now though." Perhaps they would run into each other, even, he thought. It seemed that the galaxy, fate, the Force—one or all three, had a way of crossing their paths.

Sabé sipped her caf, eyeing him with a keen gaze for a long moment before she spoke next. "How are things with Anakin these days?" She set her cup down with a soft clink. "Last time we spoke, you were struggling."

Obi-Wan remembered that well, a self-conscious little smile softening his features. "He certainly keeps me on my toes and still challenges me every single day," he admitted. But he didn't feel lost like he had years prior. Tired and disgruntled half the time, yes; but totally out of his element? No. "We've found our stride for the most part now," he said. Part of finding that stride was just accepting that Anakin would always be stubborn, emotional, opinionated to a fault, feelings-driven, and proud. Obi-Wan could only do what he could do. It did feel tiresome at times, but there was deeply abiding care and familial love for his apprentice despite how they clashed in philosophy. They had been through much together, both learning each from the other.

"I'm glad to hear it," Sabé said genuinely, eyes soft.

Obi-Wan sipped his caf, savoring the strong roast. "Zana has to be twenty now, right?" he asked, not sure if his math was quite accurate.

"Twenty-one." Pride made Sabé sit a little taller and appear a little brighter eyed. "And working a medic internship on Coruscant."

Coruscant, he thought in light surprise, putting the pieces of the puzzle together mentally. It might be mere coincidence that the sisters were living on the same planet, or purposeful. He leaned toward purposeful, knowing how close they were. Either way, there was something endearing and encouraging about hearing of Zana's success. "You must be very proud."

"Ridiculously so," Sabé confirmed, then sighed a heavy, sentimental breath as she looked off at nothing. "She's all grown up, Obi-Wan... doesn't need me anymore." She seemed to have meant it as a half joke, but he could hear that Sabé was indeed grappling with the shifting dynamic of her sister being fully an adult.

"Not likely," he returned steadily, a perceptive smile on his face. "I think I know what you mean though. Anakin is at the stage where he seems to think he has it all figured out." Shaking his head in put-on, parental weariness, he sipped his caf again. "Once he figures out that one _never_ figures it out… _then_ I'll know I did my job right."

Sabé gave a soft laugh then leaned an elbow onto the table, resting her face in a hand as a comfortable, pleasant expression remained on her face. "You know, it'd be nice to see Anakin again sometime," she said. "Do you think he even remembers who I am?"

"Oh yes, he went on and on about you and Padmé and your decoy trick for at least a year after we left Naboo," Obi-Wan replied, seeing her real surprise at the information. A knowing smile accompanied the slightest of eyebrow arches as he relayed, a bit proudly, "He was very surprised to learn that I knew about it before most others did."

Sabé was markedly impish. "I'm sure you attempted to turn it into a lesson, too."

"Well the boy needed to understand how important attention to detail is," Obi-Wan returned, to which his companion's smile grew to the beginnings of a grin.

"That's how you knew?" She both teased and asked. "Attention to detail?" Her eyes, so full of guarded thoughts and curiosities, caused him a lapse in focus as he remembered back. Even then, from the very beginning of their interactions with each other… this connection had been there, waiting to be discovered and explored. But the place where it led frightened him.

"Something like that," he replied quietly. He cleared his throat, steering them away from ground that would surely lead to more problems. "Anyway, Anakin will definitely remember who you are." He gave her a friendly smile he would have extended to anyone else. "And since you're in the neighborhood now so to speak, perhaps we can arrange a reunion visit sometime."

She hadn't missed the moment of vulnerability he'd displayed, but she said nothing, choosing to follow his lead. "In all of our ample free time, I'm sure," Sabé said with a jaded little smirk.

"Yes, that," Obi-Wan agreed with a similar expression, knowing that they most likely would only talk about this meetup and never follow through. Studying her current appearance in the borrowed handmaiden's cloak, Obi-Wan found himself thinking of Naboo and Tatooine again, the time when he'd met a young woman with a painted face and a strong spirit whose name, he had eventually learned, was Sabé. "It's been quite the journey watching you go from bodyguard to commander to agent," he reflected out loud, letting ease and friendly suggestiveness temper his voice next. "I can't wait to see what might be next on the docket."

Sabé arched an overly serious brow at him. "I've told you countless times, Obi-Wan. Moisture farming." At the face he made, she feigned being indignant—but couldn't quite pull it off due to the grin she couldn't quash. "I need to relax!"

"You think moisture farming would be relaxing?" Obi-Wan countered, enjoying this joke they'd carried on between them.

Sabé made another face as she lifted her mug up for another sip. "Certainly moreso than all this getting bombed and shot at business."

Obi-Wan crossed his arms and sat back in the booth, studying her pointedly, another knowing smile tugging at his mouth. "I think you like the pandemonium," he asserted.

A theory he'd had for awhile now, and Sabé had little reaction except to confirm it. "You're right. I do." She canted her head to the side. "But… I haven't slowed down in years. Life is passing by and…" her eyes grew distant, sad almost, conflicted. "I haven't had time to just breathe or pursue a personal life in ages." To cover her momentary vulnerability, Sabé compensated with a joking, "I do get tired sometimes, you know."

Obi-Wan was mild as he teased her. "Surely not the invincible Sabé." She let out an entertained but cynical puff at that comment, and Obi-Wan considered asking a question he had privately debated for years now. He felt that asking it would be revealing of himself, but he'd already revealed quite a lot of himself to Sabé. What was a bit more? He hesitated, then broached the topic cautiously. "Can I ask you something? A bit more personal?"

Immediately intrigued, Sabé's caf was forgotten as her eyes became studious and perceptive. "Well, now I _have_ to know," she replied. "Ask away."

Obi-Wan came right out with it the only way he knew how. "Are you and Captain Typho… involved?"

Sabé's face slackened slightly, resulting in an expression he couldn't name. "Obi-Wan Kenobi," she commented in a tone he didn't quite recognize. "What sort of line of questioning is this?" He realized she was both thrilled and afraid at the same time. "Why would _that_ sort of thing interest you?" she asked, trying to be careful but simultaneously implying something he certainly did not miss.

"Mere curiosity," Obi-Wan insisted, trying to sound unbothered and already knowing he had complicated matters by asking. Still, he charged ahead. "There's something between you two, a tension of sorts." _I've seen the way he looks at you. I can feel his inclinations._ Things Obi-Wan did _not_ speak aloud."I can't help but wonder."

Sabé considered him for a long moment, mostly unreadable. "Well. When we were younger, yes, briefly. But that involvement was too… one-sided." Her eyes grew a little shy of his and she grew distinctly less comfortable, her cheeks flushing just the slightest bit more pink. "He wanted much more than I ever did, so…" Sabé waved a hand, as if she were physically attempting to push the topic away. "We started as friends and we _remained_ friends, even after… _that_. But he was surprisingly upset when I left the forces to join RDI though. Upset to the point that I felt he was being absurd and selfish. We had a surprisingly explosive fight and haven't really kept in touch since then." She shrugged, and he saw how it saddened her. "I think that's the tension you're sensing," she finished, then gave him a challenging look. "Are you relieved?"

Obi-Wan hadn't anticipated her to be so blunt, but he supposed his question had earned him as much. "I knew I shouldn't have asked," he said, trying for a joking tone, but he could hear the internal conflict in his own voice easily.

Sabé regarded him without pretense. "Well, I'm not involved with _anyone,_ " she clarified, and Obi-Wan felt his chest clench up in a nonphysical way. He was glad to hear that, and no manner of trying to deny it to himself would change that. Before he could slap himself with judgments, Sabé asked him a question without asking him a question. "And… I assume you aren't either."

His eyes locked with hers, and the room felt distinctly warmer. "My stance hasn't changed since we last spoke about it, no," he answered truthfully.

"Hm." She folded her arms onto the table and leaned forward slightly, as if this were an interrogation. She was impossible for him to look away from. "Well now, I think it's my turn to ask a question," she said so softly it could have been a whisper. Obi-Wan swallowed. Oh dear. He was both nervous and morbidly curious to know what she would want to know. "How inebriated _were_ you, exactly?" she asked cautiously, and Obi-Wan felt an electric jolt in response as he immediately understood her context-free question.

He'd blamed pilfered alcohol for the kiss that had transpired between them. In that moment, he had panicked, unsure of how to explain away how a devoted Jedi Knight who had willfully elected from youth to remain celibate and deny himself physical relationships of any nature—had so easily fallen into the arms of this woman.

A coward's response upon his reflection, which is why he had been honest with her before they had landed on Naboo, telling her that in a different lifetime, that moment between them would have ended differently. He'd felt that Sabé deserved the respect of truth and honesty. And seeing that his conviction was still the same to this day, he couldn't bring himself to lie about how inebriated he'd been. "Not very, honestly," he admitted quietly.

He saw her swallow as whatever doubts she'd maintained about their connection were washed away. "That's what I thought," she replied softly, then took a chance and spoke her truth, too. "Neither was I."

Those three words were both her confessing to him and beseeching him. And he couldn't. Obi-Wan, a Jedi with a reputation for being skilled with negotiation and diplomacy, found himself completely at a loss for how to get himself out of this without offending or hurting her.

At that moment, the wait-droid reappeared with a tray bearing the breakfasts they'd ordered, and thankful for the intrusion, Obi-Wan retreated into silence for a few moments, questioning himself and this situation deeply again, busying himself cutting into the savory pastry and side of protein scramble he'd ordered. He asked the Force for answers, but it remained lofty and elusive to him in that moment.

Across the table from him, Sabé backed off completely, regretting her forwardness and the clear discomfort it had caused. For years it had been a thorn in her side, the endless internal debate of if that kiss would have happened if that bottle of Nyriaan liquor hadn't been there. And now she knew. Doubts from even earlier that day were gone, replaced by an entirely new feeling of being completely overwhelmed. The extent of his feelings wasn't entirely clear, but… he _did_ have them, and that was enough to put her in a new galaxy of confusion, pain, and longing. It wasn't too difficult to put herself into Obi-Wan's shoes as she sat there and pushed the flatcakes she'd ordered around without an appetite. She understood his responsibilities, calling, and convictions. She understood that their elevated connection complicated things, mostly for him. And that fact stressed her. She imagined that if she were him, she might cut off all contact after this, avoid future run-ins, and eliminate any risk of dalliance that way. Maybe, Sabé reasoned, she could convince him, and herself, that there wasn't a risk. Maybe she could turn this around and go back to being businesslike somehow. As much as the thought of never knowing how deep this connection went crushed her, the thought of being strangers to each other was far worse.

So, she thought for a few seconds, then forced herself to begin eating as if nothing were wrong at all. Then with a casual, upbeat tone, she delved into a relevant topic, hoping to muddle through. "You know, I've been curious ever since I found out Count Dooku was Qui-Gon's former Master. Did you ever meet him?"

Obi-Wan looked distinctly thrown off for the fraction of a second, pausing mid-chew. He finished the bite and wiped his mouth politely with a napkin, maybe taking those few seconds to gather himself and switch tracks. "No, I saw him in passing a handful of times but he left the Order when I was in my early teenage years." Eyeing her thoughtfully, Obi-Wan definitely seemed relieved that Sabé had guided the conversation back into less charged waters. "He's certainly created quite the problem, hasn't he?"

To put it mildly. "And it's only growing more of a threat by the day," she agreed, mind straying to work matters for a moment. Dooku, who had left the Jedi Order years ago, was quite the person of interest in the RDI halls. He was thought to be a very credible threat with his Separatist rhetoric and the Confederacy of starsystems he was building, and attempts to pin him down and find his base of operations had all failed. His current presence here on Mon Calamari hadn't missed Sabé's radar. It was interesting timing considering the droid factory and Tikkes running away. And more interesting still was when she'd privately notified headquarters just after arrival that Dooku was there, RDI had said it was already handled. Sabé failed to see evidence of that, but did understand that part of RDI operations was keeping things to levels of clearance. She was a mid-ranking agent, not cleared for certain intel. "I'm curious. How common is it for Jedi to leave the Order like he did?" she questioned, half for herself and half because RDI didn't have much intel on the more secretive, private Jedi Order. "Does that happen much?"

Obi-Wan was tentative in his reply. "It does happen, but not very often at all." He paused, brow furrowing in deep consideration, like he was trying to see why she wanted to know. "The path of a Jedi is a lifelong one. A _chosen_ path. The public tends to think of us as a cult sometimes, but each and every Jedi is free to leave if we wish."

It was then that Sabé got the feeling that Obi-Wan perhaps had the wrong idea of her questions. "I've never thought of the Order as a cult, just so we're clear," she said to get that out of the way. She hesitated, then went ahead and said it anyway: "Especially not after meeting you."

A cautious eyebrow raise and guarded gaze met hers. "Oh?"

Sabé took hold of her caf again, focusing on the circle of chocolate-colored beverage inside of her mug. "Until the day you dropped out of the sky, the idea of the Jedi was just that. An idea. Something sort of… mythical, I guess." She smiled, caught in nostalgia as she thought of how much younger they'd both been. Ten years felt like an entire lifetime. "Obviously, after spending time together, I realized you're a lot like the rest of us. Only with a more noble inclination toward how the galaxy ought to function," she said, thinking out loud as she remembered. Then she chanced an open, somewhat pleading look into his eyes, hoping very much that despite all the awkwardness they'd generated during this mission together, they could find a way past it. "I think you know how deeply I respect you and your path, and the Jedi as a whole. Or I hope you do." She meant that one two levels. The first being the words for what they were. The second meaning she understood that she shouldn't push his boundaries, and would not do so again to her best ability.

Obi-Wan's eyes held nothing but understanding as the apprehension there abated. "Yes, I certainly do. Thank you."

Sabé breathed in deeply, relaxing a little again and sipping at her drink languidly, taking in Obi-Wan with his borrowed Naboo officer uniform and topknot of gingerbrown hair, his neat beard, his kind and careworn eyes. The uniform especially inspired her next line of thought. "But I do still have to wonder," she said conversationally, feeling it safe enough to broach a subject like this one: "Do you ever speculate about who you'd be if you hadn't been born Force sensitive?"

Obi-Wan grew reflective, and it was easy to see his answer before he said it. "Yes, at length. It's very interesting to contemplate shifts in fate and the effect they'd have." He slid a finger along the rim of his caf mug, his eyes soft on invisible memories. "I actually still remember my brother from my birth family, vaguely," he confessed, a fact that Sabé immediately found intriguing and bittersweet somehow. "But not my parents. And very little else." He contemplated the mug a moment. "I think I'd be fundamentally the same person, just… on some different path," he said, then came out of his thoughts and became suddenly cheeky almost, folding his arms and leaning forward as he turned the metaphorical table on her. "And do _you_ wonder?" he asked. "If you had perhaps been born Force sensitive?"

She never had, but it took her all of three seconds to come up with her reply. Something playful and not serious, something to break the ice between them further. "I think I'd amuse myself by making it my job to try and outdo you every step of the way," she declared, daring him in this imaginary scenario to even _think_ about outwitting the numerous pranks and friendly competitions she'd subject him to.

A smile passed between them, and his eyes twinkled as their repertoire relaxed into their old standard. "I don't have a difficult time picturing that at all," he said, shaking his head. "Working for RDI really does suit you though, my friend."

At the mention of her agency, Sabé's mood cooled off several notches. There was a lot weighing on her about the department. "It has its moments," she said, trying for an equally light reply. But Obi-Wan was too observant to that.

"What is it?" he asked, growing more intent. It was almost like he'd been waiting for this topic to come up. Like he knew something she hadn't even told him about.

Sabé glanced around, her light spirit evaporating completely as she debated if she should share her most guarded and suspicious thoughts with Obi-Wan or not. A nudge of something—a quiet _yes_ that came from somewhere she didn't know—gave her either the courage or the abandon required to lean closer and drop her voice low. "This might sound crazy to you, but I think Rett was lying today about getting hit in the head," she said quietly. "I asked him during the briefing at RDI a few moments ago for more details of how he got attacked at the reception. He said someone hit him in the _back_ of the head." Obi-Wan's eyebrows began to rise as his expression turned from curious to the beginnings of dismay. "Right," Sabé said, seeing that he remembered what she did. "You and I both saw a red mark on the _front_ of his head. A mark that _faded_ in a couple of hours completely." She hesitated, her heart beating hard in her chest and mouth becoming dry. Sharing this aloud made her palms sweat. "Mixups happen. Sometimes the details slip my mind too, but…" his injury had struck her as false from the second she'd seen it, and his report of being hit in the back of the head? She knew he was lying. "I've worked something like twenty assignments with him over the past three years since he was recruited," she continued, her voice a tense whisper at this point. They leaned across the table, Obi-Wan listening in rapt tense silence as she continued. "He's a _terrible_ agent, Obi-Wan. Accident prone, forgetful, messy. He compromises situations left and right. Things go missing, things get lost when he's around. But then suddenly in some moments, he'll be absolutely sharp and capable and on top of things. Almost like… a split personality. For awhile I thought I was just being paranoid or reading into things." Sabé wet her lips briefly. "I'm a skeptic by nature Obi-Wan. I know this about myself so I very often don't give a lot of credit to my thoughts because they're… overly cautious in some situations." Shaking her head, Sabé set her jaw. "But with Rett… there's a pattern. And something's very off."

Obi-Wan took a moment to slowly put together what she was telling him. "You're saying… he's somehow in league with Tikkes?" he asked in astonishment.

"No…" Sabé said, then rethought. "Well. Maybe." Then she reconsidered again, frustrated. "I'm not sure." He was in league with _someone_ and she'd been quietly suspicious of that for some time in the back of her mind, but there was a nail in the coffin finally today, and it wasn't his supposed head injury. "The drive Artoo was recovering?" she reminded, "I checked it before I sent him off back to Padmé." Without Rett seeing, of course. "That drive was functional and working when we left Padmé's ship," she said, watching Obi-Wan's expression grow even more astounded. "Sometime between then and when I checked it, it got fried. Totally _useless_." It had taken everything she had not to react when she subtly checked it. Valuable information that couldn't be recovered now since Tikkes tech station had been stripped when he fled.

" _What_?" Obi-Wan breathed.

Sabé nodded, shooting a brooding glare out the window at nothing. "There's a few substances that will short out the systems in those drives," she muttered, her best theory that Rett had some on him and had managed to render the drive to a lump of useless metal by passing it closely by the device. "Rithium, Caldraxamin…"

"When would he have done that?" Obi-Wan cut in, then realized a second later with widened eyes. "When he knocked into Artoo."

"Only he didn't knock into him," Sabé pointed out. "We would have heard it. Artoo was trying to tell us what happened when he made all that noise."

Obi-Wan breathed in deeply, the influx of information causing him a great moment of shocked, silent thought. "This is—this is treasonous, Sabé," he said with growing concern. "You should go to someone higher up in the department, he might be working for another department or agency."

Sabé had thought of that. She had thought of something else, too. "Or he could be working for _RDI_ ," she said with quiet certainty that rendered him shocked all over again. Sabé leaned even closer, her privately kept theories and questions and observations all swirling. "What if someone higher up _put_ Rett in the department? What if he's one of many? What if that's why he's never fired and still, to this day, put with me on the important missions? All while I have _many_ other partners who do much better work than him. What if he's a _plant_?" She glanced around again, paranoid. "I've filed numerous complaints on him multiple times. My direct superior actually agrees, but Andros is _always_ vetoed by _his_ superiors when he tries to get Rett removed from assignments."

Obi-Wan's astute, suspicious frown remained. "What reason do they give?"

Sabé was grim. "Agent shortage. Which could very well be true, but even if it were, why would they send one of their most verifiably incompetent agents on such critical missions?"

Across the table, Obi-Wan frowned even more deeply, the reality hitting him visibly. "This means that you suspect that the entire agency is corrupt!" he exclaimed softly.

"I don't have any evidence of that," Sabé replied, then amended herself. "Yet." It was still something she couldn't even begin to guess at. All she had was theories. "Maybe one or more figureheads are corrupt. Maybe the whole damn department."

Obi-Wan was shaking his head, completely taken aback. "This all sounds exceedingly dangerous, Sabé. And why would you continue to work for a department you can't trust?"

It wasn't that simple. It went very deep. "The entire _galaxy_ trusts RDI, Obi-Wan. Think about it. There's a branch in nearly every sector. Agents stationed both publicly and covertly all across the starsystems. Not even _I_ know the extent of how many agents there are and what they do—and I work at the flagship location, for kriff's sake." She could be totally wrong, and only privy to one small faction of RDI that was corrupt. Or, it could be massive, galaxy-wide operation. "I took the job because I'm invested in seeing the Republic function with integrity. I thought that RDI protected the people. So now that I'm aware of the situation, I can't just walk away. Not until I know more." In fact, it felt like duty to the Republic to figure this out. "I _know_ we do good, I see the department prevent disasters and catch criminals all the time. I've done so many things I'm proud of. But… something bigger is going on. What Rett did today proves that to me."

There was a dark, foreboding silence from Obi-Wan. "Perhaps the separatists are planning something much larger than we know," he mused, a muscle in his cheek jerking. "Perhaps they've infiltrated RDI."

Sabé thought about that, a dawning thought creeping in. "You know, it wasn't until a couple years ago I really started having suspicions."

"Which is around when Dooku publicly came forward with his Confederacy movement," Obi-Wan put in grimly, putting a hand to his bearded chin as he processed everything. "This is all deeply troubling to hear. Thank you for trusting me with this information." He eyed her hopefully. "Have you considered alerting the Jedi Council formally?"

Sabé immediately shook her head. She hadn't thought about it once until he said that. "No." She hadn't even put some things together until today—everything was coming to a head as they spoke. "I need some kind of hard evidence, not just conjecture. And…" she hated to admit it, but, "I'm very worried about the personal risk."

Obi-Wan didn't judge her. "As you should be." He held her gaze solemnly. "You have my word I won't share it with a single soul."

Nodding, Sabé managed a tense, forced smile. "Thank you." She was a little surprised at herself and everything she'd just relayed to him. "I didn't have intentions to even tell you all this today. I'm sorry if I've overstepped."

"No, not at all. I'm glad you have." Obi-Wan still seemed incredibly worried. "Have you shared your suspicions with any of your colleagues?"

Sabé felt a self conscious, wan expression pull her mouth into a flat line briefly. "I don't think that I trust them enough," she admitted, eyes darting under his steady gaze when she realized what she implied. "I know. It seems strange to trust a man I've met only a handful of times in life over people I work with daily."

Obi-Wan considered briefly, then reassured her. "I'd probably find it strange if I didn't feel similarly," he said, an implied 'about you' leaving Sabé's throat to catch and gaze to grow more steadfast on his.

Sabé swallowed dryly, wondering how it might go if there came a time when she felt she had no other choice but to expose RDI. "Do you trust the Order, Obi-Wan?"

His reply was without reservation. "Yes. Implicitly. And I will until I'm given reason not to." He had great measures of concerned empathy for her, which comforted her greatly. "I can't speak to what you should do, or give you a non-biased opinion I'm afraid, but a healthy level of skepticism is completely understandable. I hold no institution or sentient being infallible by any means, and you're right to be wary of who you go to with this information you're uncovering." Sabé nodded, realizing just how much of a dire dilemma she was in. But Obi-Wan made sure she knew that she wasn't entirely alone. "As long as I'm here, I hope you know you can come to me with anything in complete confidence. I mean it, Sabé."

He was a good, good man. She'd always known it, but that conviction only grew every time she saw him and spent time with him. An unmistakable feeling of deeply abiding affection and care that had been growing slowly over time suddenly exploded ten feet taller in her heart, and emotion flooded Sabé. "Thank you Obi-Wan," she all but whispered, having a hard time finding her voice as she smiled through the sentimental flare. He was a rare kind—she didn't think anyone quite like him had ever existed before or ever would again. And feeling too much, Sabé cleared her throat and shook her head, needing to shut this conversation down. "And _that's_ about all the serious talk I can manage today I think."

"Understandable," Obi-Wan agreed readily, glancing at a nearby chrono then giving her an easy smile. "By my watch, we have about two and a half hours or so left to pass before you depart," he said, refreshing their dwindling mugs of caf helpfully. "Would telling me a bit about everything I've missed in the past seven years be too serious a topic?"

More warmth like sunshine bloomed in her chest at his kindness, his consideration, and the fact that he wanted to truly catch up. "No, I don't think it would be too serious a topic," she said, a hesitant smile playing on her lips as she wondered about his last seven years too. "But only if you return the favor."

He readily agreed, and for the next two hours, the pair of them drank caf leisurely, traded stories of their adventures, their ups and downs, of Zana and Anakin. Talk strayed to political commentary, social observations, philosophy, commiseration, with of course plenty of jests, jokes, and fond digs at each other scattered in—it was an easy and ambling interaction, requiring no effort to think of what to say next. No more compromising moments arose, thankfully, and Sabé was reminded of how generally painless it was to just _be_ with Obi-Wan.

After she paid the bill by slipping credits to the wait-droid when he was refilling his mug (she knew he'd try to pay and enjoyed the one-up when he realized what she'd done), they left together and Obi-Wan insisted on walking Sabé to the transport center. With the mood light, even happy, after their time together, Sabé felt a certain trouble-making inclination come over her. Maybe it was the crispness of the winter morning putting more bounce in her step, maybe it was a flashback to her pranking ways of her younger years, but with all the accumulated snow around, Sabé had suddenly stopped mid step, waited for Obi-Wan to turn around when she fell out of stride with him, then threw a hastily gathered snowball at him when he did, laughing openly at his sputter of surprise… then shrieking when after a few stern beats, he suddenly stooped and grabbed a snowball of his own to launch at her.

A brief, childlike snow fight ensued that neither one would ever claim or confirm if asked about it. It left them laughing at their absurdity and wet in places from snow, shaking their heads at each other and themselves.

Once at the rental port, Sabé gave him a smile that started from her eyes, and told him she hoped it wouldn't be another seven years. Then as she made to go inside, Obi-Wan stopped her. "Wait." She turned, curious. He approached her, closing the distance she'd made. "Let's exchange comm frequencies," he said, eyes apprehensive on the port hangar behind her where Rett waited with a droid employee by the ship he'd commissioned. Obi-Wan looked back at Sabé, his once again worried eyes saying it all. "I want you to be able to get into contact with me if you need to."

Sabé took his meaning and nodded, seriousness returning. "All right."

They exchanged frequencies and then Obi-Wan acknowledged that there was nothing left to do but part. "Well," he said, one word carrying the weight of all he didn't say.

Sabé echoed him in kind. "Well." She touched his arm briefly to squeeze, her eyes searching his as she wondered how long it would be until they met again. She couldn't think too much about it. "Goodbye Obi-Wan," she said quietly. "Take care of yourself." She reached up and bopped him on his bun, grinning roguishly. "And get a haircut!" And with that, she walked away, resolved to not look back, to not regret. To only accept.

Obi-Wan stayed until he saw the ship lift off into the air, his conflicted eyes following the shape of it as it disappeared into the sky. Knowing she lived on Coruscant would cause him to see the skyline a different way now—he already knew where his gaze would stray to when he looked out over the federal district from here on out.

* * *

**Later  
** **Coruscant's Federal District**

Rett entered his RDI commissioned apartment building noisily, throwing his jacket down and unceremoniously tossing his weapon holster onto the messy kitchenette table there. He hadn't even been inside for twenty seconds seconds before his integrated holo system began to blink and chime, signaling an incoming transmission. Jaw clenched and eyes dark, he contemplated the blinking light with hatred. But he knew that ignoring was not an option. With an angry punch of his fingers to the accept broadcast, Rett watched the fuzzy blue image flicker to life before him.

It was, predictably, the familiar gaunt face belonging to the man who had showed up one day three years ago in the spice mines. Rett felt more hatred seethe, clenching his fists as his skin crawled. "Report," Greejatus commanded.

The only small comfort Rett could ever come up with is that he knew the identity of his puppeteer, despite the attempts to hide it. Janus Greejatus, one of Supreme Chancellor Palpatine's advisors and representatives, had always taken care not to reveal who he was—wearing a hood, speaking in an altered voice—but that hadn't mattered. Rett might have been a nothing and no one, a former enslaved scum turned pawn, but he was a lot smarter and more resourceful than he let anyone know. It had taken him the better part of a year, but he'd discovered the identity of his captor. Greejatus wouldn't ever know all that Rett had on him until the day that Rett somehow exacted his revenge.

"I destroyed all incriminating evidence as directed," Rett reported, dread creeping up. He knew better than to lie. Greejatus had eyes everywhere. "But… they did find the factory." He bristled defensively, knowing what was coming next. "There was _nothing_ I could _do,_ trust me."

Greejatus's sallow face showed contempt. "I tire of your weak excuses," he growled. "Do you despise your brother so much you would continue to test me this way? I thought we understood each other."

At the mention of Helt, still enslaved in the same spice mines Rett had been taken from, terror struck. "I'm doing the best I can!" he protested in vehement desperation.

"Do better, or you know what happens," Greejatus threatened with finality.

Reality defeated him, the situation rendering Rett powerless. His brother was to continue being held over his head for the next seven years until he earned Helt's freedom by doing whatever Greejatus commanded. The tracking implant that Rett had been forced to accept ensured he could never go anywhere unauthorized without consequences. He clenched his fists and bowed his head in submission to the man who held his leash. He knew there were others just like him scattered throughout the ranks of RDI, indentured servants to Greejatus' bidding. "Yes, sir," he forced himself to say calmly. "It will not happen again."

"Good." The image winked out.

Rett picked up an object off the nearby shelf and blindly threw it against the wall in rage. One day he would have enough credits, enough power, and enough resources to escape the grip of Greetus once and for all, rescue Helt from the mines, and leave all of this behind. But for now, he was trapped, playing a false character to _every_ last person he could think of. Never off his guard. Never at peace. Always looking over his shoulder as he tried to play both sides to keep his brother and himself alive.

Rett collapsed to sit on his bed, his head falling into his hands as he openly wept.


	19. Darkening Skies

**Three Months Later**

Late afternoon sunlight shone over the Coruscant skyline and brightly into Sabé's Department sanctioned quarters. A humble studio apartment furnished neatly with minimal furniture and decor, it still felt homey and welcoming thanks to a few thoughtful touches. A Nubian tapestry of mottled aquamarine and speckled gold hung above the small bed, some favorite books (the old-fashioned paper and canvas kind) were stacked on the beside table, and a multi-layer wall shelf displayed photos, thoughtfully collected trinkets, and old accolades from her time as Commander. A small two-seat table stood adjacent to a functional kitchenette and a holo display hung opposite of a tiny couch. It was currently playing a newscast on mute. Plants with timed water-pods dotted various surfaces, especially the windowsill of the one large, long apartment window. The closet, opposite of the bed and beside the fresher, stayed open most of the time with a variety of jumpsuits, flightsuits, and gear carefully arranged in best use of the small space. A small tech station folded out of the wall near the bed for office work away from the office.

Sabé currently busied herself with the kettle as she prepared some fragrant, fruit-strained stimm tea for the company she was expecting. Glancing at the chrono display on her wrist-comm, she wondered if she had time to change into some off-duty clothing from the graywhite jumpsuit and boots she was currently in. She barely had any outfits that weren't work related anymore. Even as she toyed with that idea, the door chime sounded and Sabé set her work aside, dusting her hands off as she went to the door and opened it with the press of her palm to the panel.

"Well hello!" she greeted, grinning widely. Visitors weren't often here—after all Sabé was rarely even home except to shower and sleep.

Standing there a little shorter than Sabé but with the same build and similar, if not softer and sweeter facial features, Zana's grinned back. "Hello yourself!" she replied, and threw her arms around her sister for a quick, tight hug before pushing back and declaring: "What—a— _day!_ " as she breezed past Sabé and into the apartment.

With her medic's intern uniform on, Zana looked incredibly official. The crisp light blue top with matching dungarees depicted her rank in square color patches on both the sleeve and the side of her left thigh. She had her hair pinned up in a complicated knot at the back of her head, but it was obvious she'd done it half a day ago or more. Frizz and baby hairs were an unruly halo around her head, and Zana's pretty face bore the signs of little sleep and long days. Sabé felt a familiar swell of deep pride in what her sibling was making into her life's work.

However… she still couldn't resist teasing a little. "You look _exhausted_."

"That's because I _am_!" Zana replied, plunking down onto Sabé's couch and scrubbing her face with her hands briefly. "Internships are inhumane." She smiled, tired and happy at the same time. "I know they said they would be, but… I'm just ready to sleep for ten years."

Chuckling sympathetically, Sabé turned back to the stovetop to finish out their tea. "I know _that_ feeling."

"Well you make it look easy, Bay," Zana said, and Sabé heard her kicking her boots off as she lounged on the couch. They didn't get to visit very often these days, but their familiarity had thankfully never suffered. There was no pretense. Just family.

"I'm just glad you came to visit, knowing how hard you're working right now," Sabé replied, turning around with teacups steaming. She set hers down beside the couch on the tiny folding side table to cool and handed Zana hers. "Here you go, with buja nectar like you like."

"Thanks." Zana accepted graciously and stood up, taking a couple steps over to look at the small shelf of photos and knick-knacks Sabé had recently re-arranged. Zana picked up the smallest item there, a physical print out of a photo onto stone. Zana chuckled and showed the image-bearing stone to Sabé. "You still keep this around?" she asked, her tone affectionately goading. Sabé felt a distinct flare of caught-out self-consciousness and silliness, and hid the nervous smile it caused. The image was a very low-res holophoto she'd snuck with her comm's built in camera ten years ago on Tatooine. It was Obi-Wan, turned away from the camera and looking up at the Bantha they'd encountered, his gentle hand placed against the animal's face.

"It's a reminder," Sabé said evenly, knowing she was going to get some sassy remark no matter what she said.

"Of a cute man?" Zana challenged teasingly.

Resisting the urge to crack, Sabé was placid. "Of a defining moment in my life," she insisted, then quickly added: "All our lives." Zana just looked at her with that maddeningly knowing smile and Sabé snatched the stone away. "And I'd never seen a bantha before, okay!?"

Zana chuckled and blew on her tea. "Sure." She watched Sabé place the stone carefully back exactly where it'd been before. Growing a little more serious, Zana contemplated her sister who was studying the image with sentiment on her face. "Do you ever hear from him anymore?"

Sabé hesitated and then cleared her throat and turned to face her sister. "Well. I… actually worked a job with him a few months ago."

Zana's eyes were wide with a cross between delight and offense. "And you didn't tell me?!"

Sabé smiled both jadedly and fondly at her sister, who was as usual, adorably idealistic about so much in life. "Nothing to tell, Zana. We're friends. And colleagues on occasion too I guess."

Zana shook her head and rolled her eyes in good nature. "You know, you may be a super secret agent or whatever, but I can read you like a _datapad_." She sat down on the couch again, eyeing her sister over the top of her tea, an amused smile playing on her half-hidden lips. "Friends my ass."

Sabé knew this was just a sibling antagonizing their other sibling for the sake of getting a rise now. "Can we please stop talking about me?" she asked, half smiling and half desperate. "And don't use language like that!"

"I learned it from _you_!" Zana retorted, her grin getting even bigger.

Sabé sighed in put-on regret. "I know. I'm a terrible influence." She sat down gracefully beside her sister, who was very pleased with herself. Sabé reached out and ruffled the top of her head, making the frizz even worse, and Zana laughed and ducked away, swatting at her. For a moment, they settled in, and Sabé grabbed her tea and cradled the warmth between her palms as Zana began eyeing the holo newscast. While the volume was off, the scroll on the bottom of the screen read _WORRIES OF WAR PLAGUE PUBLIC, BANK RATES DROP._

Growing a good deal more serious, Zana thought a second, then looked to Sabé in solicitous apprehension. "What do you know about all those rumors?" she asked.

While Sabé would of course relay whatever she could, a lot of things that her job allowed her knowledge of were classified. She thought a moment, sucking her cheek thoughtfully before she settled on telling the truth without details. "There's a lot more going on underneath the surface than most would like to admit."

Zana's face showed more worry, which hurt for her older sister to see. "You think war is possible, then?"

Sabé would have been a liar if she answered any other way. "Yes I do."

Zana set her mug down and leaned forward, taking Sabé's free hand in both of hers. "Let's leave Coruscant," she said, her face lighting up with the mere idea. "Go live somewhere safer and quieter. After my internship in six more months I'll be able to practice at a clinic or emergency facility while I do my advanced studies." Her eyes were bright with the possibilities. "We can go back to Naboo, or maybe somewhere else. I've been looking at Alderaan, it's so beautiful Sabé. We at least need to plan a vacation there if not just go live there altogether."

Sabé feigned ignorance for dark humor. "' _Vacation_ '?"

Predictably, Zana was amused, huffing and rolling her eyes upward briefly as she shook her head. "I know, that word is _not_ in your vocabulary," she said, then let her head fall into a beseeching slant. "Don't you want some time off to just _breathe_?"

Sabé wished she could say yes, but she felt only reluctance and aversion to the idea, and it made her feel fractionally more withdrawn because she knew it wasn't what her sister wanted to hear. "I don't really know what it's like to just breathe, Zana," she said apologetically. "I'm just not good at life in the way other people are." She held up a finger as she saw Zana opening her mouth to appeal again. "And before you lecture me, I'm perfectly content with how things are," she insisted in all honesty, then realized she did have to make _one_ edit to that statement: "Although I do mostly hate Coruscant."

Zana agreed, grinning in solidarity to that statement before she tried one more gentle appeal. "Come on Sabé, don't you ever want to settle down though?" she implored. "Have a family, get married? Retire in the countryside, have a garden, and… I don't know, take... harp lessons?"

"Harp lessons?!" Sabé exclaimed with a laugh.

Zana shrugged, laughing at herself. "It was all I could think of."

Sabé considered, growing reflective as she thought. Marriage. A family. Settling down. It didn't seem to fit. It sounded nice in theory she guessed, but it just didn't seem in the cards for someone like Sabé: a workaholic who had never been in a long term relationship, a woman who was always on the move and always required to give a hundred percent of herself to the career she was in. Sabé honestly felt that raising Zana had been her small taste of domestic life and motherhood. And even that had been the galaxy's most insane, demanding balancing act. No, Sabé lived in the real world. The one where she moved through the universe as just herself and probably always would. "I do like the idea of a garden," she offered, the least she could do for Zana's fantasy.

Zana studied Sabé with soft, sad curiosity. "And the rest of it?"

Sabé smiled back contritely. "A dream," she replied. "A very nice dream." She put more energy into her voice, attempting to bolster the mood. "I _do_ like the idea of changing locations though," she said, thinking of how the insane pace of RDI paired with Coruscant's impersonal atmosphere did wear on her. "Coruscant is too much for me long term, and with all the gathering bad energy here… maybe a move would be just what we need."

Zana looked pleased and reassured, and a smile passed between the two. And then a sudden shrill beep startled both women and Sabé pulled her wrist up to look at her comm, irritated with the sudden interference before she even knew who it was. And then her face went slack and her stomach flipped.

"Who is it?" Zana asked in concern, seeing Sabé's expression.

Dreamlike in the way her confused eyes drifted up to meet her sister's, Sabé's heart was beating fast. "It's… Obi-Wan."

Zana looked immediately enthused, her eyes growing wide. "Well don't just sit there, answer him!"

Sabé quickly tried to decide how to answer, all possibilities sounding awkward or too casual or too formal. Ever since they'd exchanged contact information, Sabé had forcibly kept herself from contacting him. The temptation to send a funny picture or an interesting news article or just a 'how are you?' had been very pressing in some moments. _Get a hold on yourself._ Maybe he was hailing on accident and all these nerves were over nothing. She wouldn't know until she took the call. Clearing her throat, Sabé tried to sound natural. "Nebira here."

"Sabé," his familiar voice came in an urgent breath, sending another thrill of surprise and confusion through her. Was that _worry_ she heard in his voice? "Thank the Force."

It _was_ worry. Something was wrong, and Sabé's expression fell into a hard frown as she sat up straighter. "Why? What's happened?"

"There's just been an assassination attempt on Padmé," his digitized but still clearly wracked voice said. "A decoy was killed in her place and I thought maybe—" he paused then, and when he spoke again, he sounded more like his measured and formal self again. "I'm very relieved to hear you alive and well, my friend."

Double shocked to learn about Padmé, Sabé struggled for words. "I—" she wet her lips. "Yes, I'm fine, I didn't even know Padmé was arriving today." Worries surged immediately about her friend. "I'm going to check on her now if you don't mind."

"Yes, of course," he replied readily. "I have to go anyway."

Sabé paused, sentiment sneaking in briefly. "Obi-Wan, it's good to hear your voice."

A brief pause. He sounded distinctly gentle. "And yours as well. Take care." The transmission ended, and Sabé's wrist drifted away from her mouth as she stared into nothing for a few brief seconds as she decided what to do.

"That's terrible, Sabé," Zana said faintly, empathy and dismay creasing her face.

Sabé's face shifted to an apologetic expression. "I'm so sorry, Zee. I think I'm going to have to cut our visit short."

Zana was already getting her boots on. "Oh no, I completely understand," she insisted as Sabé got up and paced over to her window, rubbing her thumb just under her lip in nervous tension. Zana finished with her shoes. "I'll holo you later tonight if you're around to check on you," she said, and approached Sabé with a quick hug and a very intentionally given, "Love you," with meaningful eye contact.

Sabé touched her sister's cheek briefly. "Love you too."

After Zana left, Sabé immediately hailed Padmé for a voice transmission, but the request was rejected then followed about fifteen minutes later by a text communication that said: _Can't talk right now but I need to speak with you. Come see me at my place?_

With the rest of the day off, Sabé replied an affirmative and re-holstered her blaster (she never went anywhere without being armed), pulled on some boots, and headed out the door.

* * *

It had come as a surprise for Obi-Wan to hear about Padmé's attack, but then even more of a surprise to hear that he was being assigned by the Council to protect the Senator for the time being. When he had told Anakin, the boy had tried valiantly to hide his glee, but of course, being his Master, Obi-Wan had known. The way over to the Senate Apartment Complex, Anakin had been a bundle of anxious energy and excitement that Obi-Wan oscillated between feeling amused by and worried about. When Anakin and Padmé had reunited, he'd stumbled over his words while red in the face, clearly catching the Senator off guard with his oafishness and admiring nervousness. She'd been gracious though, ignoring the gaffes and inviting them to take seats in the lounge area. Jar Jar was also there, dressing in a very formal attire that didn't quite fit the Gungan Obi-Wan had met back on Naboo. Jar Jar had been _very_ excited to see himself and Anakin.

"I am very grateful you are here, Master Kenobi," Captain Typho said, drawing Obi-Wan out of his thoughts. The Senator's security leader was grim, standing just adjacent to where Padmé and her handmaiden sat. "The situation is more dangerous than the Senator will admit."

His comment seemed to irk the Senator. "I don't need more security, I need answers," Padmé insisted darkly, her gaze on the Jedi across from her. She wore a formal gown and long headpiece that gave her a very artful appearance. "I want to know who is trying to kill me."

While Obi-Wan of course understood that desire, he wouldn't lead her on to think they could do that for her. "We're here to protect you Senator, not to start an investigation."

His words were immediately contradicted by his Padawan. "We _will_ find out who is trying to kill you Padmé, I promise you."

Unbelievable. Obi-Wan looked at his apprentice in questioning reprimand. "We are not going to exceed our mandate, my young Padawan," he clarified.

"I meant in the interest of protecting her, Master, of course," Anakin tried.

Impatience flared and Obi-Wan had to still himself. Anakin had a habit of trying to find loopholes. "We are not going through this exercise again," he said patiently, despite his internal aggravation. "You _will_ pay attention to my lead."

Anakin's blunt reply came as a shock. "Why?"

Hardly believing his ears, Obi-Wan's eyebrows all but slammed together. " _What_?"

"Why else do you think we were assigned to her, if not to find the killer?" Anakin insisted, his pride yet again running the show. "Protection is a job for local security... not Jedi. It's overkill, Master. Investigation is _implied_ in our mandate."

Disappointment as well as awkwardness tensed Obi-Wan's face. He could feel the surprised gazes coming at them from Padmé, Jar Jar, Typho, even the handmaiden. "We will do _exactly_ as the Council has instructed," Obi-Wan repeated, warning hidden in the depths of his voice. "And you will learn your place, young one."

Chastened but resentful, Anakin fell into a moody silence as Obi-Wan gathered himself forcefully with a deep breath.

Padmé, obviously feeling awkward, tried to smooth things over. Ever the diplomat. "Perhaps with merely your presence, the mysteries surrounding this threat will be revealed." Even as she said that, Obi-Wan felt a distinct sensation like a clear bell sounding over a foggy lake. He sat up a bit straighter, his feelings and senses alerting him to a presence he recognized… a presence that unexpectedly made his pulse pick up.

Typho touched two fingers to his ear then looked at the Senator. "Your visitor's arrived, Milady," he said.

Padmé stood, her expression turning more pleasant, even relieved. "Oh good."

In mild disbelief at this day and all it had offered so far, Obi-Wan watched as _Sabé_ lightly bounded up the stairs that led down to a spacious veranda. She was catching hands with the Senator, who met her just past the top of the stars. "Padmé!" The women hugged briefly and then held onto each other's arms briefly. "I'm so glad you're all right." She then looked past Padmé and took in everyone who was there. Including Obi-Wan. When their eyes met, her expression changed, softening. "And having a reunion party without me, it looks like," she observed.

As if on cue, Jar Jar galloped over to her, pulling her into a squishing hug. "Sabby!" he crooned happily, setting her back down with his reptilian hands on her shoulders enthusiastically jostling her. "Ohh Sabby, yousa lookin' grand, spiffy goober bombad agent now, wazzat!"

Sabé was perplexed and amused at the gibberish. "Thank… you? It's good to see you too, Jar Jar." she said, obviously relieved when she ducked out of the Gungan's grip. Obi-Wan up stood after his apprentice did. He hadn't imagined seeing her again so soon, and wasn't sure how to react to it either. His initial _feelings_ on it needed careful managing.

" _Anakin_?" Sabé asked, gawking as the Padawan approached her.

Grinning pleasantly, Anakin gave a semi-bow. "Yes, hello Sabé."

She tilted her head at him, playfully scrutinizing. "You're so tall, are you part Wookie?!"

"I think _he_ might say so sometimes, with my behavior anyway," Anakin joked, glancing apologetically at his Master.

Eyes coming to him, Sabé's smile eroded a little into more conflicted feelings, but he wasn't sure if anyone but himself would see it that way. "Hello Obi-Wan."

He understood. While he was happy to see her, he didn't trust that happiness. He ran from it, in fact. "A pleasure to see you as always, Milady," he answered carefully, bowing lightly.

That soft smile on her face turned a fraction more trollish. "Got the haircut, I see."

He found it difficult not to respond in kind to her. "It was high time, apparently."

"I _still_ think it's too long," Anakin put in mischievously, earning a disgruntled look from Obi-Wan.

Padmé smiled wearily. "It's wonderful to have everyone together like this, but I'm afraid I'm absolutely exhausted," she said, looking to her former handmaiden plaintively. "Sabé, can I talk to you privately in my chambers for a few moments?"

Instantly serious, Sabé agreed. "Of course." With a backwards glance from Sabé, the two women retreated into Padmé's chambers.

* * *

The moment that the privacy door slid closed behind them, Padmé's more true mood was revealed: anguished and upset. "I can't exist like this, Sabé," she said, swiftly striding down the short hall from the main area to her spacious bedroom and massive closet. "I'm just trying to do my job, and people want me dead for it," she said sharply, turning once in the bedroom so quickly to face Sabé that her skirts whirled around her. "This, the attempts on Mon Calamari… it's _absurd!_ "

"I know," Sabé sympathized, sensitive and understanding to her friend's feelings on the matter. "Do you have any starting thoughts on who could be responsible?"

Padmé drew in a deep breath to calm herself and match Sabé's calmer energy. "Yes, I think it's Count Dooku. I even told the Council that when I saw them at Palpatine's office earlier."

"What did they say?"

The Senator grew visibly resentful. "That he's a former Jedi and as such, he's not capable of things like that." Sabé frowned deeply, taken aback and puzzled by such a sweeping statement. "Exactly," Padmé said, agreeing with Sabé's silent disapproval. "They're being foolish to not consider all possibilities." She bit her lip, eyes going to look at vague middle distance beside herself. "I also think it was Count Dooku behind the attempt on Mon Calamari."

Sabé clasped her hands thoughtfully behind her back, her thinking stance. "That was my ultimate suspicion too, but apparently nothing solid ever came to light on that," she said, walking over toward the wall of giant windows that overlooked Coruscant's nearby districts. Her eyes swept the skyline shrewdly as she thought. The Mon Calamari mission hadn't ever pinpointed _who_ funded that droid factory or where the droids had went. Frustrating. And convenient, perhaps too.

"Tikkes is still missing, I assume?" Padmé asked. "Tundra Dowmeia's replaced him in the Senate, but I'm sure you already knew that."

Yes, she did. "Tikkes has been traced to some Confederacy strongholds but missing otherwise," Sabé said, distracted. Padmé came to join Sabé to stand near the window, her expression pinched. "Your voice is one of the strongest ones against the Military Creation Act and against Dooku's separatist agenda," Sabé said. "It makes sense to me too that he would want you off the playing board to make his life easier."

Padmé sent her friend a grateful look. "Thank you. I was so angry that the Council brushed my suspicions aside. They're too biased, I guess."

Sabé couldn't comment because she didn't have enough experience where that was concerned, although she did feel that underestimating people and deciding what they were capable of was a bad idea. A setup for being surprised in unpleasant ways. Better to over suspect than under suspect. Her thoughts turned to what had happened earlier that day with Padmé's attack. "Who was it?" she asked gently. "Your decoy?" Sabé wondered if it was someone she knew.

Padmé's gaze was full of pain. "Cordé Kavos. You didn't know her I don't think." Her jaw set hard as tears gathered in her downcast eyes. "It's unspeakably horrific to know her life ended because of me."

Sabé was filled with painful empathy. "Milady I can't speak for her exactly but as someone who stood in your place as decoy once I can assure you." Padmé looked at her then, pained and hopeful as her former decoy held her gaze with deadly seriousness. "We know _exactly_ the risk and cost of doing that job when we step into that role."

Padmé nodded, swallowed, and refocused on the city before them. "It still isn't right. And it never will be. I'll carry this with me forever." She shook her head grimly and then hesitated. "I… don't want you to think I asked you here to ask favors but can you do any kind of checking into this for me from your end of things? I need to know who is doing this. They have to be stopped before more lives are taken."

Sabé readily agreed. "Of course, Padmé. You've done so much for me over the years. It's the least I can do."

"Thank you," Padmé said, her face relaxing measurably. She heaved a sigh, releasing tension. "I feel better now that I know you'll be looking into this."

Sabé managed a smile "Good. You know I can't promise anything unless an official investigation is ordered, but I can check with some contacts and poke around." Padmé nodded, but her expression shifted and seemed so troubled that Sabé knew something else was wrong. "What is it?"

Padmé sighed again and walked back toward her bed a few steps, reaching up to unclip her headpiece from the hidden fasteners that held it in place. "Obi-Wan says they're here to protect me only," she said. "But then right after that, right in front of him, Anakin argued back that investigation was implied, and promised me that they would find who's behind all this." She pulled off the cone-like headpiece, revealing her real hair underneath the built-in wig. Her wild curls were swept into a tight bun, and the second that headpiece came off, Padmé looked so much less intimidating and normal. That's why she wore such ornamental pieces. She knew it made her look more imposing and people subsequently took her more seriously. "It does seem strange to assign a couple of Jedi instead of a security agency to protect me, doesn't it?" Padmé asked, brow furrowed delicately.

It did indeed. What was the logic? "Whose idea was the protective order, do you know?" Sabé asked.

Padmé went to her closet to put the headpiece away. "Palpatine suggested it."

Just then Sabé caught sight of Anakin and Obi-Wan across the way through the window. They had gone out onto the small balcony that extended off of Padmé's lounge area. Eyes on the shorter of the two Jedi, Sabé was nearly brooding. "Interesting."

"I thought so too," Padmé said, re-emerging from her closet. Sabé turned toward her, giving full attention back. "I have a feeling I might be told to go into hiding over all this, Sabé," Padmé said gravely. "Cordé _died_ for me, if I run away it's like she died in vain."

It was easy to see how this weighed on Padmé from multiple angles, and how great the pressure was to do the right thing. "Just focus on staying alive and safe," Sabé counseled gently. "I'm sure SBI is going to conduct a thorough investigation," she said, knowing that RBI's sister agency, the Senate Bureau of Investigation, was a resourceful and efficient operation. "You just stay patient and cautious."

Padmé sat down on the bed with weary, slumping shoulders. "You know… sometimes I envy you," she said, letting out a soft huff of laughter that was cynical and jaded. "Doing such important work behind the scenes. Not all over the HoloNet, not immediately recognizable in so many circles, not the target of assassination plots…" she shook her head, staring at the floor. "There's safety in anonymity."

Sabé gingerly sat down beside her, thinking for a moment before responding. "Safety is all well and good, but there's incredible power in notoriety too." Padmé's gaze lifted to look into hers. It was easy to love Padmé's heart for justice, liberty, for those who were downtrodden, misfortunate, and oppressed. She had lifted Sabé up time and time again in the past, and needed the same for herself now. "You know you're doing something right if people want to silence you. Keep fighting for justice. You always have."

Padmé's expression remained troubled, but a brave smile slowly broke through. "And I always will."

Seeing how tired her friend was, Sabé stood. "I'll let you get your rest now," she said. "And I'll let you know if and when I find anything out."

The women exchanged a smile. "Thank you, Sabé."

* * *

When Sabé entered back into the main area of the apartment, Dormé slipped past her to go attend to the Senator, and Anakin, who was pacing idly in a now-empty lounge hurried over. "Is she all right?" he asked, his handsome young face twisted up in a very genuine, open display of concern.

Sabé had never quite tried to picture Anakin—what he'd look like, his personality—but she was still surprised by the lanky and tanned blonde standing in front of her today. He seemed endearingly awkward and boyish, and sweetly caring. "Yes, she's a bit shaken up by all this I think," Sabé said, choosing not to overshare, "but she's made of durasteel, so I'm not too worried."

Anakin's face lapsed into a smile that seemed nostalgic and admiring. "She is, isn't she. That's how I remember her. So strong and steadfast. A true leader of her people." His blue eyes scanned over her face thoughtfully, his smile languid as he observed: "You look so much like her."

Sabé pursed her lips lightly against a humorous smile and cocked an eyebrow at him. "Really? I've never gotten _that_ one before."

He cracked a grin, showing off strong, beautiful teeth, and Sabé smiled back easily. He had a certain goofy, genuine charm to him. She set off toward the center of the lounge, wondering where his master had gone. "Did she… say anything?" Anakin asked with poorly masked eagerness, following her closely. "About me?"

Sabé stopped to eye him, curious about his angle. "What would she have said?" she asked.

Anakin's eyes faltered and he became insecure almost. "I just feel like she barely cares that I'm here," he said, hurt feelings peeking through. "And I'm so happy to see her. I'm disappointed, to be honest." He said all these things with such unguarded emotion that Sabé couldn't help but feel a little badly for him.

"Padmé isn't an overly emotive person, Anakin," she said kindly, hoping to cheer him up without patronizing him. "She's had a very trying day, too. I'm sure she's just as pleased to see you as you are her."

His expression lifted a little, the mere possibility of that making him feel better. "I hope so."

Sabé craned her head around, taking a few steps more into the middle of the lounge area. "Did Jar Jar leave?" she asked, even though that wasn't who she really wanted to know about.

"Yes."

She peered around more. "And Obi-Wan…?"

"Is right here," came a somewhat testy reply as Obi-Wan appeared from the stairway to the lower veranda.

Sabé watched him approach with incredible fondness, even considering the grumpy expression on his face. His hair was now collar-length in the back and layered along the sides of his head into a style that was much more distinguished than his previous look. As he reached herself and Anakin, he gave her a small smile.

"Padmé said you're both here for security purposes only," Sabé said, going straight to business because too much friendliness in front of Anakin might leave the wrong impression.

"Yes, another attack is likely while the Military Creation Act goes through the echoing chamber of the Senate," Obi-Wan said, not hiding his distaste for politics.

"We're not supposed to investigate, even though I think by finding out who's trying to kill Padmé, we could take the offensive rather than the defensive," Anakin said, crossing his arms and fixing Sabé with a curious and knowing look. "Don't you think that would be the wiser move?"

Sabé narrowed her eyes, letting them dodge from Anakin to Obi-Wan a couple of times. Interesting that Anakin would attempt to use peer pressure against his Master. Clever try, but she wasn't going to get in the middle. "I think the wiser move is not involving myself in you and your Master's disagreements," she returned smoothly.

Anakin gave a chuckle, his easy, crooked grin returning. "It's just like Obi-Wan said. You don't miss anything."

Feeling her eyebrows rise, Sabé looked at Obi-Wan with a certain level of intrigue. "He said that, did he?"

"I say a lot of things," Obi-Wan said, shooting his apprentice a flat look. "Including telling my Padawan to please go check the veranda and make certain it's secure."

Anakin's immediate response was to resist. "But you just did that!" Obi-Wan's expression dared Anakin to protest again and his apprentice gave up, not without a show though. "Okay, okay, I'm _going,_ " Anakin muttered, sighing loudly while stalking away.

Left in the quiet of the apartment with the dull hum of Coruscant traffic outside, Sabé and Obi-Wan contemplated each other for a moment. "Padmé said she'd been assigned Jedi protection but she didn't mention who," Sabé said momentarily.

"And I might have known you might appear to call on a close friend after what happened to her today," Obi-Wan returned. Sabé nodded. They were both surprised to see each other. But not unpleasantly so.

"It's really true you're not investigating?" she asked, finding it strange, and imagining perhaps it was a secret being kept even from Anakin.

But Obi-Wan shook his head no. "Council hasn't commanded it," he replied simply, then suddenly seemed to have a realization. "Has Padmé asked you to look into this for her?" he asked, becoming a fraction more apprehensive.

Sabé was apologetic in the most coy of ways. "I'm afraid that's between myself and the Senator."

Obi-Wan looked put out. "So that's a yes, then." He drew in a helpless breath, eyeing her with a mixture of appreciation and trepidation. "Be careful, whatever it is you're doing."

"I'm always careful," Sabé said, knowing full and well she wasn't. Obi-Wan knew it too and almost rolled his eyes. Studying him closely, Sabé said her next three words out of concern. "You seem tense."

He smiled wanly. "Am I that transparent?" he asked, then ran a hand errantly through his hair to put a piece that had fallen into his eyes back in place. "My apprentice feels entitled to try my last nerve today," he said, a concerned look going toward the Senator's chambers. "He's overly eager to impress Padmé. He's idolized her in his mind over the years. I've heard over and over how beautiful, how wonderful, how special, how different she is."

Sabé could see why that would worry a Jedi. "You suspect trouble."

Obi-Wan gave her a darkly amused look. "With Anakin? Always." He stopped then and grew a shade more contrite. "I complain about him too much, don't I?"

Sabé shrugged, only feeling endeared. "No judgment from me, Obi-Wan." Their eyes held.

"Veranda's clear, Master," Anakin said, reappearing slyly. "But you already knew that."

Obi-Wan threw a glance his apprentice's way. "Excellent. If you'll stay here and keep and eye out, I'll escort Lady Sabé to her ship."

Anakin nodded readily. "Of course." He flashed a winning smile. "It was great to see you again, Sabé."

It was easy to smile back. "And you too, Anakin. Keep our favorite Senator safe, will you?"

"Gladly."

Obi-Wan and Sabé walked silently together down the stairs to the grand open-air veranda. Padmé had large gold goddess statues standing like guards in accent to the graceful white columns that elegantly framed a large, cushioned seating area. Directly past that was a dock where Sabé's RDI-commissioned swoop bike waited.

"I'm sorry if my out-of-the-blue transmission was jarring earlier today, by the way," Obi-Wan said as they ambled down through the lounge area. "In hindsight it was quite the way for you to find out about Padmé's attack," he said with an apologetic glance. "I didn't fully think before I hailed you."

They reached the dock and stopped there. "I just appreciate that you're worried about me," Sabé said, turning to face him and trying to tease him, but coming off entirely genuine. His expression revealed his vulnerability briefly and Sabé thought of the nervous way her throat caught when she saw news of Jedi deaths or accidents on the newcasts. Her voice softened and lowered. "I worry about you too."

While he visibly acknowledged what she said, he didn't respond otherwise. "Have you discovered anything new about your suspicions regarding the Department? Rett?"

Sabé shook her head. "I haven't worked a job with Rett since Mon Calamari, but as far as the Department… Armand Isard just fired and replaced quite a lot of directors, claiming they were corrupt." Isard was the head director of RBI and SBI. Sabé had never met him before.

Mildly impressed, Obi-Wan mentally chewed on the news. "Perhaps your theory was right, and the department discovered it. Cleaned out the traitors."

Maybe. Sabé shrugged, a roguish streak coming on. "I plan to find out," she said in all seriousness.

"Now I'm even more worried than before," Obi-Wan grumbled.

Sabé gave him a withering look. " _Relax,_ " she ordered, then got onto her bike, keying ignition and pausing before taking off. Her expression grew earnest. "Take good care of my friend, Obi-Wan. She's much more affected by this than she'll show you."

His eyes were kind and receptive, despite being guarded. "I promise," Obi-Wan said, giving her a deep nod or a shallow bow in farewell. Their eyes held a moment longer and Sabé wanted to find more to say, but there wasn't anything. So she gave him a tight smile and pulled her flight googles off of where they hung on a handlebar, snapping them on.

Kicking into gear, Sabé gunned the engine and the bike jumped to life then dropped into a ribbon of traffic below, leaving Obi-Wan to watch her go. As she disappeared into the buzz of the city, he breathed a charged sigh out. Anyone watching would have said he looked like a man who was longing.


	20. Obi-Wan's Suspicions

**The Next Day**

Coruscant's Federal District, also known as Core Square, was considered to some to be the backbone of the Republic. It was home to the Avenue of the Core Founders, the Senate Dome and Jedi Temple, and the Republic Department of Intelligence complex.

Being headquarters of the galaxy-wide agency, the RDI superstructure sprawled over several city blocks and was a constant bustle of activity as thousands of agents and operatives conducted their business inside. Home of the galaxy's most secure and comprehensive intelligence archives and most advanced crime labs, the complex boasted incredible training facilities, weapons catalogues, and state of the art prison and interrogation holds, as well as its own shipyards of starships and other vehicles. Standing long and low compared to the rest of the skyscrapers around it, RDI was not designed to be beautiful, but functional and secure. Every square inch of the entire complex was monitored by microcameras and audio devices, and was fortified against potential attacks with the most up-to-date technology and defense systems.

Internally, RDI was divided into five major sections: the Special Agent Division, Technology and Holocrime, Covert Operations and Surveillance, the Senate Bureau of Intelligence, and Intelligence Analysis. Operating under the Senate's Galactic Department of Justice's jurisdiction, the formidable department had a reputation for seeking justice, thwarting security threats to the people of the Republic, and apprehending those who sought to harm the common good. Working hand-in-hand with other establishments and agencies by sharing intelligence and resources, RDI had relationships with the Jedi Order, the Senate, and various other prominent institutions.

Currently, deep within the complex in the branch of the department's headquarters, two agents were currently locked into quite the sparring session in Training Area 39-C.

Unlike a lot of gymnasiums which kept an open floor area for wrestling, grappling, and sparring, this gymnasium was built to incorporate the challenges agents might find in the real world, like obstacles of many various sizes, multiple levels to ascend up and find a way down from, moving parts, and training features that could be activated like a rain simulator, reduced-gravity mode, and disorientation/distraction synthesizers. The gymnasium's setup was frequently changed around so that agents were never overly familiar with the obstacles and wouldn't be able to rely on anything except the sharpness of their wit. Field Agents were required to log set numbers of hours in training every week to maintain their physical discipline and build on their skillsets.

Vaulting over a crate and onto the solid ground past it, Sabé had one hand gripping tightly onto her durasteel staff as she attempted to turn the current sparring match around. Right on her heel, Special Agent Platt Daggoth leapt gracefully through the air, landing nimbly and giving his staff an expert twirl as Sabé whirled to face him and blew hard against a strand of hair that had come loose to fall across an eye. They were far enough apart that their combat lapsed into a brief standoff of evaluating and waiting for the other to make a move. Daggoth was an intimidating height and size as most Bothans were, but that's why she enjoyed training with him regularly. He was a challenge, despite the fact that they had trained together for a couple years now on and off. He was a "lifer," the term given to agents who had worked for the Department since enlistment age. He was around fifty standard years of age, so he had legendary experience and a finesse that was easy to respect. Having worked a few missions with him, Sabé knew just how cunning and resourceful he was. Which was one reason why she was currently out of breath and losing to him… he was _good._ Their hour was almost up, and he'd come out on top six out of ten times in their challenges so far.

A fur-covered humanoid species that some called beastly, Sabé considered Bothans to be noble and striking in appearance, lion-like with their tawny coloring and distinctive black, wet noses. Currently, Daggoth's pointed, long ears were flattened a little, giving away the intense focus he was digging into. Circling each other slowly, Sabé tried not to think of anything except the current moment, but Padmé's text communication from earlier that day was _still_ bothering her and she couldn't stop focusing on it.

_There was another attempt on my life last night. I have to go away for awhile. Don't reply._

This had left Sabé with nothing but questions, and a feeling of helplessness, too. She'd reached out to a few contacts to see if they knew anything, but so far she'd gotten discouraging replies or nothing at all… she was going to contact Gregar soon to see what else she could learn about last night.

Daggoth saw the flicker of Sabé's distraction and seized on the opportunity by leaping forward and bringing his staff down in an incomprehensibly quick move. Sabé dodged and countered just barely, gripping her staff with two hands and sending one end at him with a powerful thrust as she narrowly missed his blow. Surprising her, he side-stepped the attack and grabbed onto her staff with both hands, dropping his own weapon to use hers and send her flying through the air thanks to fingers that lost their grip on her weapon. Not willing to accept defeat, she was already tucking into a roll to scramble up to her feet—but when she shot up and whirled around, she found herself looking dead into the end of the staff, and she had to admit defeat. He was so fast. Annoyed with herself, her shoulders dropped as she ruefully shook her head at herself and sighed.

A pleasant and slow chuckle rose out of Daggoth's throat as he took the staff away from her face and relaxed to lean on it. His voice was a deep, warm, rumbling bass that had a unique richness to it. "That's twice this week, Nebira."

She didn't need reminding, and he knew it too, which was why his chuckle grew. Sabé snatched her staff away pointedly with an impish if slightly defiant smile. " _Don't_ get used to it," she retorted with a point of her finger, determined that their next training session would end with her winning the most points.

He remained amused and easy going as he retrieved his dropped staff, gave it a deft whirl, and expertly put it into the holster he wore across his back. "I think that's what you said last time," he said, his amber eyes carrying a playful challenge.

She hated to admit it, but he was right. Grinning through her conquered chagrin, she too re-holstered her staff onto her back and they slapped hands briefly as they always did after a successful round. They began to head towards the exit, swiping their badges as they exited to log their time. Opening her mouth to ask her peer about his last job doing reconnaissance on Rodia, Sabé was interrupted by the familiar low beep of her comm. Glancing at the readout, she saw that it was the welcome center hailing her. Faint surprise registered. _Hmm. Maybe Zana is surprising me with a visit, she hadn't popped up like that in awhile after all._ "Nebira here."

"There's a visitor to see you in the welcome lobby," came the reply. "His sign-in says Obi-Wan Kenobi. Looks like a Jedi."

Sabé almost stopped walking, her stride hiccuping instead due to the surge of surprise that went through her. Daggoth, in step beside her as they went down the broad main hall, sent her an intrigued look at the mention of 'Jedi.' Stilling a thousand possible reasons why he was here to visit her, Sabé made her reply despite the sudden increase in nervous energy she felt. "I'll be right down." Making a quick apology to her peer, Sabé went on her way and left Daggoth behind as she began to hurry. She couldn't think of a reason that Obi-Wan would be here to see her unless something was wrong.

* * *

Obi-Wan had of course seen RDI headquarters many times over since the huge superstructure was so close to the Temple, but he'd never physically stepped inside. Most of the cooperation and information sharing that took place between the Jedi Order and RDI was over the HoloNet and various other transmission methods, although there were quarterly in-person information assemblies between the two establishments which took place at the Temple.

Ever since finding out Sabé worked here those three months ago on Mon Calamari, he'd certainly found his eye wandering the skyline to this specific building much more often. But to finally be here in person… he was, in a word, impressed. The structure was a great deal more imposing and formidable in person, and much larger than he'd assumed.

He waited in the lobby, which was much too large to be called that in his opinion. While RDI HQ was recognized as one of the highest security structures on Coruscant, anyone from the public could walk into the public entrance grand lobby where a large canteen, visitor's lounge, information center, and welcome desk were all available. Beyond there, Obi-Wan could see clearance-only entry points with security checks and a heavy guard presence. Beyond the checkpoints, a large, multi-story atrium of offices was visible, as well as lifts and hallways to other areas that he supposed would remain a mystery. A good amount of coming-and-going was happening around him, and while he saw many people and species in gray RDI uniforms, he also noticed how those he assumed to be field agents dressed how they saw fit. He drew in a steadying breath to calm himself as he waited for Sabé to arrive. Not for the first time, he questioned his decision to come here in person rather than ask her over comm. From a security standpoint it was the safer decision, seeing as comm activity was subject to trace. But from an emotional standpoint, he was still a little thrown off by seeing her yesterday—and subsequently frustrated with himself that he was thrown off.

Luckily, he didn't have to stew in his thoughts much longer. Sabé appeared from one of the no-return-entry doorways adjacent to a nearby security checkpoint. She looked flushed and energized, like perhaps she'd just gone for a run. She wore a skintight gray and yellow bodysuit that had a very high neck offset by cutouts that revealed bare, toned shoulders. A sparring staff nearly as tall as she was was strapped at a forty-five degree angle across her back. Her hair was neatly gathered away from her face into a braided tail, but little strays and babyhairs clung to sweat-damp skin and stuck out in places. She looked capable and official and pretty as usual. He had told himself repeatedly that he wouldn't feel anything at all when he saw her, commanding it of himself almost. Unfortunately, the second he saw her, his resolve be damned, he felt it. That warmth, that affectionate pull. The one that put a feeling of conflict in his chest so deeply. Forcibly pushing those things away, Obi-Wan moved to meet her, keeping his mind on his mission.

Walking at a much quicker pace than him, she met him halfway. "Obi-Wan!" she greeted, but her expression showed apprehension and worry. "Nothing's wrong I hope?"

He knew it was very odd for him to turn up like this, and gave an apologetic, reassuring little smile. "Well," he started, glancing around and hoping she would catch onto his need for discretion, "I don't think there is, but I wanted to have a word. In private." He let his eyes convey meaning.

He saw understanding grow on her shrewd, attentive expression and she also sent a quick glance around. "Let's step outside," she said decisively, and led the way back out the huge entryway from which he'd come and into the stone plaza that stretched out in front of the building. She kept walking, leading them down the wide stairway until they reached the place where a guardrail stood. One level below was the public streetway, where a variety of speeders and bikes and shuttles whizzed by noisily. "There's listening devices everywhere in there," Sabé said when she stopped and turned to him. "But we won't be overheard here." Worried interest etched her face into a harder expression, and he supposed she could either read him well or his state of mind was obvious. She knew something was off.

"Thank you for thinking of that," Obi-Wan said, and folded his arms in similar kind, hands hidden inside his robe sleeves. He was grim. "Have you heard of the second attempt on Padmé's life last night?"

She nodded once, similarly grave. "I have."

"We caught the assassin," Obi-Wan relayed. "She'd been hired by a bounty hunter, who ever so kindly shot her from a distance with a poison dart and escaped before we could get a name. I took the dart to a friend who specializes in the obscure, and he said the dart comes from a planet system called Kamino. Have you heard of it?"

While Sabé clearly wasn't sure where he was going with this, she remained patient and discerning. "No."

Obi-Wan nodded bleakly. "Neither had I. And strangely enough, when I accessed the Jedi archives… the system didn't appear where it should."

Eyebrows rising faintly as her expression shifted to surprise, Sabé's voice dropped in volume as she stepped a little closer with narrowing eyes. "Are you saying the archive was… tampered with?"

Obi-Wan hesitated answering, then took a few steps to cross in front of her. When he was troubled, moving helped him calm himself. That, and her closeness made it hard for him to think. "It appears so," he said, wondering if he were in the right to ask what he was about to ask. It bordered on out of line, technically speaking. And even telling her what he'd shared so far would be frowned upon by the Order. But, she'd shared things with him that displayed an ultimate sort of trust. And he felt this same trust in her too. "If you're willing…" he turned around to face her again, his face tightly drawn. "I'd like you to see if the system appears in your databases." He glanced at RDI meaningfully.

Sabé's expression grew slack in shock as understanding began to mount for the suspicions he felt. "You suspect a coverup of some kind?" she asked in disbelief. "One that spans the entire _board_?"

He knew it was a leap to make, but he couldn't shake the guiding feeling that there was something here that had been long hidden in plain sight. "These are strange times," he replied after a long, tense pause, meeting her troubled gaze with one of his own. "I can't stop thinking about what we discussed on Mon Calamari," he confessed, because it had plagued him since then. The thought that corruption could be possible on such a vast scale like she suspected was unsettling. This discovery today in the Jedi archives had only added to the overall unease he was experiencing. " _If_ Kamino is missing from your archives too, we have quite the plot on our hands," he said, then made sure not to get far ahead of himself. "But that is quite the large 'if.'"

Sabé nodded promptly. "I'll check it immediately."

Fractionally relieved, but newly anxious to know what she would find, Obi-Wan managed a small smile. "Thank you. My friend said it's beyond the Outer Rim. About twelve parsecs outside and south of the Rishi Maze." He looked to the skyline where the Jedi Temple stood elegantly against the clear afternoon sky. "I'm visiting Master Yoda next to tell him of my findings with the Jedi Archives. I assume he'll send me to go investigate in person. So I may be unavailable for a day or two. Either way, I think it safest to tell me what you discover, if anything, in person."

Sabé listened closely and appeared to be willing. "I can do that," she agreed, but seemed to be preoccupied with another line of thought. "You could be walking into some kind of trap, have you considered that?"

Indeed he had, and a light smile came to his face. "When it comes to traps, I have a certain method that works without fail."

She looked expectant and intrigued. "Which is…?"

He grinned briefly. "Spring the trap."

Enjoying her reluctant laugh and brief eyeroll at his statement, he watched the wheels in her head turn as she thought it over further. "Is Anakin going to investigate with you?"

He might have known she would wonder that. He could sense her worry for him. Turning to the mid-torso height railing they stood at, Obi-Wan put a hand out onto the rail on either side of himself. "No. He's protecting Padmé, currently."

She sounded skeptical. "You allowed that?"

Obi-Wan was extremely resigned, and it made him sound weary. "Council's choice, not mine."

Somehow, Sabé managed to sound sympathetic and understanding to his plight without saying a word. "Hm." She leaned her elbows beside him, resting her face into a fist.

Chancing a glance at her, Obi-Wan found it difficult not to feel appreciative of her quiet awareness. "Indeed." With the city scenery sprawled behind her and the soft breeze rustling through the loose halo of frizz and stray hairs, her rosy cheeks and gentle expression and warm gaze, it was hard not to succumb to the powerful regard he felt for her.

"I'm sure there's nothing to worry about, Obi-Wan," Sabé said, and he forgot what she was referring to for a moment, for a half-second thinking she was commenting on his unspoken thoughts, not Anakin and Padmé being alone together.

A helpless smile crossed his face as his eyes moved to study the railing briefly. She was wrong, on both counts. "You're not very convincing, but I appreciate the attempt," he said, rubbing at a small imperfection in the stone under his fingertips. He then drew in a deep breath and straightened. It was time to return to the Temple. "Let me know what you discover."

She nodded, her eyes saying things to him that her words did not. "Yes. I will." The worry, care, and tension in her gaze carried through to her parting words. "Be safe, Obi-Wan. You're right. These are very strange times." He noted, as usual, the feeling akin to pain that accompanied every time they said goodbye.

They parted ways there, neither knowing that they wouldn't see each other until a war had broken out across their galaxy. Neither seeing that from high up in the RDI headquarters, Platt Daggoth watched their interaction from the shadows, a shrewd expression on his face as he stroked the fur of his chin. He knew the others would be very interested to know about this development he'd just discovered.


	21. Complications of War

Oh how the galaxy could change in the span of a few short days. Obi-Wan had learned this well, and his body still bore the remnants of the painful lesson. Despite the quick relief bacta had provided to the injuries he sustained during the encounter with Dooku, ghosts of anguish were left behind on his arm, leg, torso, and knee. Grim reminders of several things.

Obi-Wan sighed heavily and put on the fresh undershirt and tunic provided, then stood and turned to evaluate Anakin, who was beginning to come out of the medically induced coma the Medical Corps had put him into. Having returned to Coruscant quickly after Geonosis, they'd both gone directly to the Halls of Healing. Eyes straying to the newly fitted artificial arm extending from his Padawan's severed bicep, sadness crept through Obi-Wan's bones again. Anakin's impulsivity, his quickness to temper, and his inability to step back from emotion had always been a cause for concern. But now it had resulted in both he and Anakin nearly dying. If it hadn't been for Master Yoda's intervention…

Stopping himself from dwelling in speculation, Obi-Wan let out another troubled breath and approached Anakin's bedside to make his presence known.

" _Ugh…_ " Anakin moaned, woozy from the medicine in his veins.

A pained but fond expression rested on Obi-Wan's face. "Well now, my young apprentice." Anakin looked at him without much expression except groggy disorientation. "I'm glad to see you on your way to normal."

It was obvious the very second that Anakin went from not being entirely sure of where he was or what was going on to remembering everything. His eyes cleared, his expression tightened, and he shot upwards to sit up. "Where's Padmé?" he asked urgently, eyes darting all around, no doubt searching with his Force senses too. "She said she'd be here when I woke up!"

Expression falling as disappointment and foreboding swallowed him, Obi-Wan attempted to remain calm in the face of this unfortunate, telling display. "She said she'd be right back." An accusing look came his way, and Obi-Wan doubled the firmness in his voice, infusing warning there too. "I don't _know_ , Anakin." He hadn't planned to have this conversation right away, but he also hadn't anticipated that Anakin would be so brazen. Dreading it, Obi-Wan forged ahead regardless, sitting down onto the edge of Anakin's cot and giving his apprentice quite the meaningful look. "We need to speak."

Anakin lapsed into a moodily knowing, reluctant silence briefly. "About what happened on Geonosis."

"Yes." Obi-Wan had been irate the moment that Anakin attacked Dooku, watching his Padawan go completely against a direct command—but now he only felt deeply apprehensive about what it all meant. His approach remained gentle but very firm. After all, Anakin was still learning. They all were. "Anakin, you're allowing your feelings to control you. Your easily manipulated state of mind allowed us to become injured and for Dooku to escape, do you see that?" Anakin said nothing, retreated into a sullen state of mind, no doubt in his ego while mentally justifying to himself why how he'd acted had been excusable. Obi-Wan knew they would have address this many times over at length, but he had something much more pressing he needed to ask about. "Now what exactly transpired between you and Padmé while you were away?"

A distinct ripple of nervousness, fear, and defiance all emanated out from Anakin quickly, who contemplated for a moment then boldly looked his master square in the eye. "Nothing."

No fool, Obi-Wan catalogued the blatant lie and did not press. "Why were you on Tatooine?" he continued. "I assume it had to have been important for you to defy the instructions I gave you not to leave Naboo?"

Defiance faded quickly be be replaced by extreme, raw sadness. "M-my mother," Anakin said slowly, eyes going far away and face working to stow the great feelings he shouldered. "Dreams led me there." Anakin burst out without provocation. "I had to go to her Obi-Wan! She'd been _taken,_ by those monsters, the sand people!" Hatred filled his voice briefly until great emotion overtook him and his eyes filled with tears. His voice dropped to an anguished rasp. "I tried to save her. And I couldn't. She died in my arms." Dark, powerful anger crept in, the kind that chilled bones. "And I was _powerless_ to do anything about it."

Completely blindsided by this development, Obi-Wan barely knew how to respond except honestly and with compassion. He understood now. "Anakin. I'm so sorry for your loss." He meant it, and held his apprentice's gaze, a boy who was becoming a man. A very conflicted man, who had been raised on a desolate world and then thrust into greatness he could barely understand. Anakin had never, not once for a day, forgotten the life he lived before. Nor should he have, in Obi-Wan's opinion. Master Yoda called it attachment. Obi-Wan called it unavoidable—a consequence of fate. How could they expect Anakin to ever experience the world like they did? Especially when he had known his mother's love and constant presence for the first ten years of his life? Anakin was not like the other Jedi. Obi-Wan had always known this and tried to keep it in mind. It did complicate things though. Nearly everything.

"The Council was wrong!" Anakin spat as his eyes glittered with enraged tears. "I begged, for _years,_ to be allowed to go save her from that vile wasteland!" Obi-Wan bowed his head, because he knew that was true… and also knew where this was going. "This is their _fault_!"

Caught between two places, Obi-Wan took a long moment to think. He had also publicly asked the Council on three occasions to allow a rescue mission for Shmi. To bring her into the safety of the Republic where she could live a better life and be there for her son, who insisted that until he knew she was well, he could never know peace. The plea had been denied and criticized. "You know it's not as simple as that," Obi-Wan finally replied regretfully.

They'd had so many conversations and arguments about it. Anakin _did_ know. Still, he lashed out the only way he could. "I will _never_ return to that godsforsaken place for as long as I live," he raged, then sobbed once into his flesh-and-bone palm. His sadness was heartbreaking.

Obi-Wan put a comforting hand onto his apprentice's shoulder, waiting until Anakin had composed himself a little bit. "I suppose I can now better understand why you'd be so upset when Padmé fell out of the transport," he admitted, drawing a hopeful and guarded look from his apprentice. "You felt afraid to lose her. You care for her. Deeply."

Anakin remained faintly hostile. "Yes I do. And it's wrong to punish me for it."

His hand fell away from Anakin's shoulder. It was difficult to stay steady against the barrage of implications. "No one is punishing you," Obi-Wan counseled, his tone bordering on wearily beseeching. "But I have warned you a thousand times over, young one. Your feelings can be used against you. They can trick you, mislead you, unbalance you. They can be a path to the dark side."

Disgust crossed the younger Jedi's face. " _Apathy_ is a path to the dark side," he retorted hotly. "Love never could be." He regarded Obi-Wan's chagrin with thinly veiled contempt. "I wouldn't expect you to understand, Master." No stranger to this dynamic—Anakin being riled up and saying things he would later apologize guiltily for—Obi-Wan still grew tired and felt a sense of defeat renew inside. It was so difficult to reason with him when Anakin was in this mind frame. His final accusation fell on a vulnerable, hurting spirit. "You've never experienced feelings in the way I have," he accused, lobbing the final blow. "You don't have a _heart_ in there."

Obi-Wan did have a heart, and it hurt. _I'm not the enemy,_ he wanted to beg, ever aware of the widening chasm between himself and Anakin. _Listen to me, please. I only want the best for you._ But then he sensed approach, and looked to the doorway, standing in surprise as his thoughts on Anakin faded to the wayside momentarily. He vaguely recognized Padmé's presence before he saw her, but it was the other presence that he immediately recognized had made him stand up so quickly.

Sure enough, Padmé entered, and right behind the Senator— _her_. Wearing a sickened worried expression with shoulders tight up near her ears… Sabé. In dark tactical pants and rugged boots with a tight long-sleeve top and a crimson thigh-length cape unfurling behind her, her appearance was a balance struck between official and rogueish. Upon seeing Obi-Wan, she became visibly relieved, let out a tensely-held breath, and her shoulders began to relax. Where a moment ago he'd been in a state of mind over Anakin, Obi-Wan was vexed anew in a different way. He'd been about to contact her to make sure she was all right when Anakin began to stir. Only the Force knew what she'd been doing the past few days as war gathered on the horizon then broke out completely. How had she known to come here now? He could only quickly surmise that Padmé had told Sabé what happened—Geonosis, Dooku—and that Sabé had hurried over to verify their condition with her own eyes.

Even as Padmé bustled past in urgency to see Anakin, Sabé held eye contact with Obi-Wan, the forced calm in her voice not matching the remaining concern he saw in her eyes. "Padmé's told me what happened," she said, confirming his theory and explaining it to him before he could ask. A smile that could break into pain held weakly on her face. The facade cracked a little as she visibly held herself back."I'm so glad you're both still with us." Obi-Wan was helpless against the urge to reach out and pull her into his arms, but he didn't let even a muscle move until the thought passed.

Padmé bent over Anakin, and both of them missed the intense emotion passing between Obi-Wan and Sabé's gazes. "Oh Anakin, let me see," Padmé said, examining his new arm emotionally before briefly touching his head in a soothing gesture. "Are you in very much pain?"

Now turning and watching them as Sabé came to stand beside him at a respectable distance, Obi-Wan saw how Anakin was so caught up in Padmé, so quickly comforted and calmed. "I'll be all right," Anakin said, his voice husky with emotion, his smile matching the way his eyes intensely focused on Padmé's. "Well enough to escort you back home, at any rate."

Unbelievable. His stubbornness was beyond compare, and his boldness was flabbergasting. Obi-Wan knew he was not beyond blame—the woman beside him created all kinds of tests only he knew the extent of—but the way Anakin didn't even seem to care who saw (or didn't realize how obvious he was being) was troubling. Too mentally barren at the moment to reprimand his learner, Obi-Wan glanced at Sabé and toward the doorway out of the medical pod. He needed to know what she'd discovered about Kamino.

They stepped into the hallway together. In contrast to the upper levels of the Temple designed for aesthetics with wide halls and lofty ceilings, the Halls of Healing were more functional and felt more small. More normal. There were few Jedi and medics making their way up and down this particular hall, but otherwise, it was deserted. A transparent observation window allowed the two of them to see into the room they'd just exited.

Obi-Wan focused on Sabé, gauging her. Her expression was tight and the energy coming off of her Force signature felt chaotic and tense. He could only guess that RDI, and therefore her daily life, had been extremely affected by the outbreak of war. "You're exhausted," he observed with a note of concern, folding his arms across his chest.

"And you look like a spring flower," she countered, still marred by enormous worry. Funny enough, that made him smile for the first time in days despite all the heavy things weighing on him. He knew he must look as awful as he felt. A brief silence spanned between them, in which he had the keen inclination that she was holding herself back from closing the distance between them and crushing him into a hug. Or perhaps that was _his_ inclination. Either way, he kept his arms folded, not letting himself even come near the possibility of following that inkling. "I heard about everything on Geonosis," she finally said. "I was so worried." It was difficult not to allow her to see how touched he was by her words. "I'm fine," he insisted, but in a much more gentle tone than he used with anyone else.

She accepted his word with brooding skepticism, beating him to the punch when she changed subjects. "I checked the Department archives. Both the general access and high security mainframe." Her voice was low and careful, her eyes grim. "Kamino didn't exist in either one. Erased." Obi-Wan let out a soft breath of air. So it _wasn't_ something isolated. He had theorized that the deleted records were a Jedi internal affair but now… this new information confirmed his worst suspicions: that this coverup of the clone army he'd discovered was multi-level. Sabé appeared similarly distressed, speaking just above a whisper, voicing his very thoughts. "Who do we even go to with this information? Who could have _done_ this?"

He didn't know. He was at a loss. He briefly stewed. This was beyond him. Yoda and Mace might know better what to do, if he could obtain her blessing to share her findings. "I need your permission to relay this information to a couple of my most trusted masters," he said in equally quiet volume, hoping against hope that she would trust him enough to allow it. "I can keep you anonymous."

Her expression remained tense, but she considered for a brief moment with downcast, quickly scanning eyes, then clenched her jaw and looked back into his eyes decisively. "No need. You can say who I am—if you trust them, then I do too." Respect swelled in his chest at the way she conducted herself, and gratitude that ten years ago, their paths had crossed on that Naboo summer day. Sabé was not caught in sentiment as he was though, and she peered at him in what he imagined was one of her agent expressions: there was a perceptive, judicious cast to her features. "What did you find? On Kamino? Can you say?"

Memory snapshots of the countless clone troopers and the endless sprawl of production lines rifled through his mind grimly, set against what had happened with the quickly-following battle on Geonosis. He at the least owed her the truth of the matter after the risk she'd taken in checking into her department's archives. "You mustn't share what I'm about to tell you" he said, which caused her expression to falter with mild surprise. "It was the production facility that our new Republic Army originated from. The strangest part is that it was paid for by someone _years_ ago, someone claiming to be a Jedi."

Her eyes flickered back and forth between his in astonished apprehension. " _What_? Who?"

Obi-Wan glanced around briefly. "It remains a mystery. The Supreme Chancellor will lead the public to believe that the army is only beginning to be built now, and that the clones that aided the battle on Geonosis were quickly-made prototypes that were created when his emergency powers were given. When the truth is, the troops already number in the hundreds and hundreds of thousands."

He could see this news was received by her in similar fashion as he'd received it. With alarm and understanding of how deep the plot went. Then she quickly nodded, schooling her expression back to focused intent. "I'll see if I can find anything about all this. If the Department has any connection to the army's creation."

Obi-Wan wanted to tell her no, but he knew it wasn't his place. "Be _careful,_ Sabé," he pled, letting how serious and concerned he was peek through. "It's… hard to know who to trust right now."

She said nothing for a brief moment, and he wondered if she was thinking what he was. They at least felt they could trust one another. "I know."

Everything around them was ceasing to make sense anymore, and Obi-Wan shook his head as he thought of the gravity of the situation. "I'm afraid we're caught deeply in a web that we never even knew we were in," he said, and her tension-filled expression showed brief agreement. Eyes drifting to look into the observation window where Anakin and Padmé were in some serious conversation, Sabé joined him in quietly watching for a moment.

"They seem to have really bonded the last few days," she observed, her tone not giving away what she thought of it.

Obi-Wan stroked a hand down across his mouth then the beard on his chin. "It's going to be a problem," he muttered, not bothering to hide his perspective on the matter. A commlink hail sounded, and Sabé looked at the display, her expression growing deeply intent and then somewhat dark. "What is it?" Obi-Wan asked, for a moment wondering if it were something to do with Zana.

Sabé shook her head, all business again, but distractedly so as she stared into the viewing glass unseeingly. "Another mandatory emergency meeting at headquarters in a couple hours," she said. Obi-Wan could only guess she'd attended a few since Palpatine had been given emergency powers and announced the creation of the army. "From everything I've heard so far, this is going to be bad Obi-Wan," Sabé said after a moment, folding her arms too with a hard, dour expression on her face. "I was dispatched to Cato Neimoidia about twelve hours after you came to see me a few days ago. We found another abandoned droid production facility there, deep underground." Her intensely apprehensive gaze came to meet his. "Other agents located even more of the same in several other different systems. Quite a lot of people are in the interrogation holds right now. The amount of troops the Separatists have amassed is… very worrying. And still unknown." There was a sinking feeling inside of Obi-Wan. The energy of the Force was full of uncertainty and vagueness now, difficult to decipher. "I need to head over the HQ," Sabé said with finality as she let her arms out of the fold they'd been in and straightened like a solider preparing for battle. She hesitated and left him with one last gentle statement. "Obi-Wan be careful."

He nodded. "You too. I appreciate you checking on us." He knew without needing evidence, that she would have come just the same if it had just been him injured. He worried for her, one small person in a sea of untrustworthy, potentially traitorous people. In her department and beyond. "Trust no one, Sabé," he implored, allowing some of his feelings to come through into the way he said it. She said nothing else, but her dark, full eyes had questions. Questions she didn't ask. She turned, leaving with a swirl of cape behind her.

Obi-Wan watched her go for a moment, that feeling of protest and loss ghosting through him as it always did when they parted ways. He dragged his gaze back to Anakin and Padmé. Even as he contemplated them gravely, he sensed someone approaching and turned to see Master Yoda on his hoverchair. "Master Obi-Wan," the small green Master greeted in his unmistakable grumbling, high-pitched voice. He came to a stop as Obi-Wan nodded briefly in greeting. "Dark times are these," Yoda intoned with great foreboding. An ominous way to greet someone. Never one to say or do anything without purpose, Yoda looked at Anakin and Padmé with shrewd eyes, a clawed hand coming to touch his chin. "Great danger do I sense concerning the two of them," he said, confirming that as usual, Yoda was one of the most insightful masters on the council. "Saw the way she ran to him on Geonosis, did you?"

"And more," Obi-Wan admitted, thinking of Anakin nearly jeopardizing their pursuit of Dooku when Padmé had fallen out of the transport.

Yoda let out a thoughtful and bleak _hmm_. There was a short pause. "End it, you must," the master declared with finality.

Obi-Wan's immediate reaction was to feel astounded. "And how can I do that?" he asked, feeling lost yet again. At the small green creature's questioning, challenging expression that came his way, Obi-Wan appealed to his Master's rationale. "Master Yoda—the more I attempt to control him, the more I criticize him, the more I expect him to be a traditional Jedi—the more he defies me and does the exact opposite of what I ask."

Yoda's response was immediate. "Then speak with _her_ you will. And relay the importance of stepping away from her feelings for his sake, you shall."

Obi-Wan nodded, pushing any personal feelings, judgments, or convictions about the situation aside. "Yes, Master."

Yoda nodded solemnly. "Good." His hoverchair turned, signaling his departure. "Report to the Council in twenty minutes, you must. A meeting with the head of Republic Intelligence, we have." Interest piquing, Obi-Wan stared after Yoda's already-retreating shape.

Obi-Wan would then ask to speak with Padmé and have a very charged exchange with her about Anakin. It would end with her reluctantly agreeing to end things with Anakin, but only if she was given the opportunity while he escorted her back to Naboo. She said she would have to ease him into it. Although Obi-Wan had reservations and had the distinct feeling that Padmé had no intentions to keep her word… he would agree.

* * *

The grand RDI auditorium was packed to capacity, with agents who were out in the field attending via either audio or holo. Built to mildly resemble the Senate chambers with a centralized stage and audience surrounding it in multi-level, one hundred eighty degree circle, this was the third time a department-wide briefing had taken place since Palpatine had declared the Republic at war with the Separatists.

Exhausted from the past few days, Sabé had her datapad ready for note taking. She'd already downed three cups of caf since seeing Obi-Wan about two hours ago. Seeing him alive and well had been more of a relief than she'd anticipated, nearly making her cry with the build of emotion she'd felt. Since hearing the reports of Geonosis and all that had happened there and reading that two Jedi with names she knew were injured in the effort, she'd been hailing Padmé nonstop for information. That of course had led to her visit to the Temple's medical facilities. A temporary relief to see Obi-Wan alive and well. But with rumors swirling about how the Jedi were set to militarize and help lead the charge against Separatists, she couldn't shake off the underlying feeling of dread.

Armand Isard took the stage after everyone had gathered, and the members of his board of directors surrounding the stage at the first seating area. He began another department-wide brief, first announcing that he had fired ten more RDI directors who had been discovered to be corrupt. That took the total to thirty-two. While listening with rapt focus, Sabé remained undecided on if he was being truthful or not. He then ran through the ever-changing war-time procedures that would be followed with intelligence and resource sharing. A few seats down from Sabé, she glanced Platt Daggoth looking at her intently at one point, to which she acknowledged him with a casual nod, then glanced over again after a moment to see if he was still looking. He wasn't. Something about his gaze had been a little unnerving. Across the way from her, Sabé also saw Rett—hunched over his knees with an uncharacteristically sick expression on his face. When he saw her watching, he wiped his expression clean and remained stoic for the rest of the time.

The tail end of the meeting was for letting the agents know that Isard had just finalized the establishment of the Crisis Branch—which would work directly with the Jedi Order and the Loyalist Committee. These two things immediately caught Sabé's attention. The Loyalist Committee was a group of senators that served as advisors to Palpatine—and Padmé was on that committee. And of course, the Jedi Order was forever synonymous with a certain Kenobi in Sabé's mind. She leaned forward with an elbow propped on her knee and fingers loosely resting against her mouth as Isard detailed the Crisis Branch approach.

"Using our mutual resources and the Jedi Order's division of intelligence, this branch will establish an open line of consistent communication during this time of war," Isard's authoritative voice boomed. "I'll be assigning three specific agents to each entity to act as liaisons. These six total agents will be given temporary private offices to work out of if they don't already have them, and they'll be expected to report directly to me on an as-needed basis. Their primary job for the duration of the Crisis Branch operation will be to be a readily available contact to their assign, to work directly with me and the board of directors, and to given assignments. Any questions you have can be directed to my office privately." He paged through his datapad, and began to read from it. "Agent assignments are as follows. Liaisons to the Loyalist Committee: Agents Rennan Farr — Zaq Phlox — and Platt Daggoth."

Impressed, Sabé shot a glance Daggoth's way. He was well known, and the agents around him were congratulating him. A brief din of noise as agents commented among themselves took place. Farr and Phlox—Sabé realized those were names she'd seen on plaques for longstanding service in the Honors Hall. It seemed that assignments were going to the most seasoned agents. As the noise died down, Isard continued. "And liaisons for the Jedi Council. Agents Jon-Kad Natta —Yamamura Nox—" he paused, looking up from over his datapad inscrutably "—and Sabé Nebira."

Sabé's face went slack, then quickly pinched into a frown. What? Had she misheard? Natta and Nox were two other agents whose names she recognized from the Honors Hall. No explanation came. Isard droned on for about ten more minutes about war-time policies and assignment procedures considering the new situation. Then he concluded with nothing further except to say that liaison agents would report to him in the morning.

By the time that everyone began to disperse, Sabé came up with a theory. This must be Obi-Wan's doing somehow. A special request, or maybe he'd told the Council her findings already and as such they wanted to include her in their dealings with RDI. While she wouldn't be able to confirm that until later, the thought of that stirred both pride and nervousness. Among other things, this meant she was more than likely going to be seeing Obi-Wan much more regularly. She was simultaneously thrilled and worried. Stowing feelings was easier when the person they were for only popped up into your life every few years. If she saw him daily or weekly or whatever it was going to be… she could only imagine the emotional torture she'd be in. That and if there were other Jedi around, she'd have to be even more vigilant to keep her feelings hidden.

Sabé exited the auditorium, deep in her thoughts, and suddenly found herself face to face with the imposingly beautiful Astrid Ka, who was Isard's personal aide. Sabé had only seen Ka at a distance, and saw that up close, the woman was even more stunning than from afar. With icy blue eyes, immaculately aristocratic features and dark hair set against porcelain skin, her good looks were offset by something more sinister and dangerous that laid behind her glinting, perceptive eyes. "Agent Nebira," she said in a strong voice that retained femininity while being deep and assertive, leaving zero room for refusal. "Isard wants to see you in his office. Come with me."

* * *

Sabé found herself for the first time ever in the stunningly luxurious office of Armand Isard. The space featured plush carpet, polished steel and metal features, and a nearly three hundred and sixty degree view of Coruscant through heavy transparisteel windows. An impressive tech station and a full bar stood by for Isard's personal disposal. A dark, rippling waterfall wall served as the backdrop for Isard's imposing block-like desk, which she currently sat across from, calling on every ounce of acting ability she had to remain outwardly calm and bland in the face of… whatever this was.

Isard sat casually with an ankle against his knee as he read through his datapad for a moment as if she wasn't even there. He hadn't said anything to her thus far except telling her to have a seat while looking at her with boldly calculating, sharp eyes. Then he'd taken to his datapad, leaving Sabé to wonder and sweat. Isard was a distinguished and wizened looking man in his late forties or early fifties who bore the appearance of someone who lived an immaculate lifestyle. Everything from his build to his personal grooming was carried out with military precision. His icy eyes finally darted up from his reading and a smile that wasn't entirely pleasant appeared. "Agent Nebira. Interesting file." He sat the datapad down and leaned over his desk with fingers softly coming into a thoughtful clasp. "You've had quite the career before coming to work for us. Do you find your work here satisfactory?"

This was some sort of test. Sabé remained inscrutable. "I wouldn't stay if I didn't."

An easy, unhurried chuckle came as his smile reappeared. "And do you know why I've called you in here?" he questioned.

Sabé remained careful to appear collected but not _too_ reserved. "I'm assuming it has something to do with my new assignment."

His expression gave away little, but he stood and courteously indicated his bar. "Drink?"

She normally might have refused, but feeling that this was some kind of game or proving ground, she went along with it. "Anything dark and bitter." She was well aware that this was an opportunity to find out more about a department she suspected of being incredibly corrupt. However, there was an intense fear that he somehow knew what she was thinking.

He poured them both something then returned, handing a drink over to her then sit-leaning against his own desk as he swirled amber liquid in his own glass tumblr. "Tell me. Did you notice anything about the agent selections today?"

Sabé took a sip to buy herself a little more time to think. Seeing nothing wrong with observing the easily observable, she carefully responded. "Everyone but me is at least twenty years in."

Isard lifted his eyebrows and glass simultaneously. "Correct." He downed his drink in a single swallow then set it down. "We're in uncharted times, times that require the whole of the Republic to band together to defeat our common enemy. The purpose of the Crisis Branch, as I'm sure you gathered from the meeting, is to work directly some very important figures in our political sphere. So I'm sure you can imagine _why_ this is a job going to only the most highly ranked and experienced agents the department has to offer." This was where his gaze turned darkly curious. "And yet… the Jedi Council requested _you_ by name, an agent I'd never heard of until today, an agent with less than ten years under her belt." He crossed his arms and eyed her leisurely. "Tell me about that."

Sabé remained equally relaxed outwardly. "I can only assume it's due to my ongoing relationship with Master Kenobi," she answered honestly, knowing that telling the truth—just not all of it—would show her to be trustworthy. "We met ten years ago during the Naboo Trade Federation crisis, when I was a security officer and an aide to the Queen." She left out the part where she and Obi-Wan were in the midst of uncovering possible plots within their individual organizations. "We've worked successfully together a few times since."

Isard was thoughtful, taking his time before replying. "I see." His eyes bore a pleased glint as he made the connection. "So a Council member trusts you. That is an important tool we can use." A tool for what, she had to wonder. But she kept her face stoic and despite the way she observed him trying to unnerve her, she outwardly didn't even flinch. "Well. I'm obviously more than happy to oblige their request, but I do want you to understand the importance of this job."

Sabé nodded once, distinctly feeling like she was a small fish against a colo claw monster… at risk of being swallowed whole if she didn't keep her guard up. "I do, Director Isard."

One of his eyebrows raised nearly imperceptibly. "You _will_."

* * *

Later that night after the unsettling meeting with Isard, Sabé was left feeling distinctly threatened. Still, she had a task to complete, and wasn't sure what her new role would allow as far as time constraints. She again stole into the mainframe archive storage, her hood up to hide identifying features. After hours, it was quiet inside. While anyone with a certain clearance level could access the mainframe, agents needed signoffs and permission to access it. A directive from above—an official reason to be there. Sabé had forged an access card—a trick she'd learned last year from a mission that had required more covert methods in the field.

A vast warehouse section of RDI, the glowing rows and rows of information stored here were accessible manually. Not even sure what she was looking for, Sabé's first stop was to go to the section of storage where she'd found the erased partitions where Kamino should have been logged. Maybe she'd find something there. She cast a furtive look around and pulled the datalog out, beginning the transfer of contents onto her datapad quickly. Then, a soft sound behind her caused her to whirl and almost drop the things in her hands as she reached for her weapon.

Where there had been no one only seconds ago, a familiar individual lurked, wearing a hood of his own. "Agent," he greeted, the tawny, rumbling voice dangerously soft. "In the mainframe without a reason to be. By all appearances poking around where you have no business being."

At the end of her blaster sights, Platt Daggoth was serene. With a hammering heart, Sabé didn't take the weapon off of him. "Why are you following me?" she demanded in a whisper.

He didn't tell her, instead, he came forward readily, as if he wasn't in danger of being shot. He spoke so softly she could barely hear him. "Meet me at the Dakarr's Tavern in twenty minutes." His eyes dropped to the blaster as if it were nothing. "You'll want to hear what we have to say." Then he brushed past her without saying anything else at all.


	22. The Group

Sabé found Dakarr's Tavern on a lower level of Coruscant that didn't quite qualify to be considered the dangerous belly of the planet's underworld, but neither was it the sort of place someone upstanding would ever consider going willingly.

Set within a dark and damp block of rundown shops and hovels, the tavern structure itself was older and visibly run down, complete with a flickering, buzzing neon sign that declared its name in eye-scorching red Aurabesh—a distinctly foreboding sight that Sabé contemplated from across the way before she made any more moves. She had considered several responses in action after Daggoth caught her in the mainframe—but following up on his mysterious beckon to meet here had proved too much for her morbid curiosity to resist. Her instincts were the only thing she could allow to guide her through this development. Somehow, she knew Daggoth wasn't going to report what she'd done to RDI officials. So who was he? And what did he want? And why had _he_ been in the mainframe too after hours like that?

Despite the weighed risks and her gut feeling that she wasn't walking into some kind of trap, Sabé was fully prepared for worst case scenario. With the reassuring weight of her blasters strapped against either thigh and her cape drawn around her, she took in a decisive sharp breath and let it out just the same. Then crossed the street before she could change her mind. Little did she know, she was about to be part of something that would alter the fabric of the rest of her life.

Once she entered into the tavern, a dimly-lit dive bar scene greeted her senses. The sweet and cloying scent of cigarras set a soft haze of smoke in the air. Round tables were haloed by small threads of dim neon orange lighting overhead, and seated at these tables a variety of seedy looking individuals of all types littered the establishment, some playing card games with drinks in their hands, others sat back in a liquored stupor watching the establishment's variety of holoscreens that displayed different programs of interest. A few of the patrons paused to brazenly evaluate the newcomer with unfriendly and mistrustful eyes. In answer, Sabé began to move inwards. One could very easily portray themselves to be someone to be taken advantage of in situations like these, so putting up a callous front had its merits. In the middle of the tavern, a vintage design bar stood up-lit with more neon, yellow this time. It was tended by a droid that had seen better days. Signs of neglect and disrepair were everywhere here, and Sabé took it all in carefully and discreetly. She finally spotted Daggoth toward the back, where he was watchful and waiting for her appearance at a table with four others.

Pulse picking up a little, Sabé didn't let any of her apprehension show. Revealing her fear could only be a detriment in this situation. She approached the table at a pace that was neither too eager nor too reluctant, and decisively took a seat at the empty chair that waited, evaluating the others at the table openly as they regarded her in a mixture of ways in return.

"Nebira," Daggoth's rich timbre greeted in an inscrutable tone, drawing her attention. "Glad you decided to come." A female Rodian in an outfit that might be worn to an exotic club appeared with an order-datapad, expectantly looking at Sabé. "What's your drink?" Daggoth asked.

Sabé kept her tone neutral and guarded, committing herself to remaining at the helm of her emotions despite her apprehension. "Rylothian Sour. Extra dark."

"Get it for the lady," Daggoth said, and the server sauntered off toward the bar. Sabé eyed the others at the table with an expression that was slightly pinched. She swore she knew some of their faces.

Daggoth nodded toward the first person who sat directly to Sabé's left, a white human male in his thirties with untamed brunette curls, dark brows, and a clean-shaven face. He sat in a relaxed way and wore casual, rugged clothing. He could have easily passed for a smuggler or spice runner, that's the vibe he gave off. Something about the glint in his eye told Sabé that he was quick and perceptive and cynical. "This is Sett Braxis, he's intelligence and holocrime," Daggoth said, then indicated the next person. A pale Sullustan male, this individual was distinguished by his tapered skull, enormous almond shaped eyes and drooping facial jowls, plus the unmistakable large ears. He eyed Sabé openly, his watery all-black eyes seeming to dart over every inch of her in evaluation. "Tootu Nezuma, surveillance specialist," Daggoth said, and Sabé followed his pattern, eyes going to the next person. So they were all agents, or at least thus far. Smiling in a quiet and polite way, the next person was a Twi'Lek female with delicate and beautiful features set in lemongold skin. She immediately seemed elegant and graceful, bearing the appearance of being both approachable while still being deeply discerning. She wore a pretty headpiece with jade detailing snug against her lekku. "Leda Voth, special agent with SBI." With a final gesture, Daggoth introduced the last person there, a dark-skinned human male with handsome features and immaculate appearance, down to the tailored clothes, his neat beard and hair, and the carefully kept fingernails at the ends of his thoughtfully clasped fingers that rested on the tabletop. "And Jego Tavu, news reporter for the Coruscant Sun broadcast."

Sabé looked the group over again, realizing she _had_ indeed seen them all before in passing at RDI headquarters except Tavu—who she now knew she recognized from newscasts. None of this explained what the hell was going on though. However, Sabé refused to appear as nervous or eager to know what was happening as she was. So she sat back a little in her chair and maintained the appearance of being unbothered and indifferent. "Nice book club you have here."

The Rodian server brought her drink just then, plunking it down loudly in front of Sabé, who with great, intentional measure, picked up the sloshing dark drink in its elegant tumblr and sipped leisurely, keeping her eye contact slow and strong with the occupants at the table in turn.

"We're sure you're wondering why you're here," Daggoth said beside her, elbows leaned onto the table as he turned slightly to fix her with his probing, enigmatic gaze. "I first took notice of you when you repeatedly reported Agent Rett Chronos," he said, causing Sabé an internal jolt of surprise. How did he know _that_? "Then you stopped. Why?"

While she slowly sat her glass down and kept her tone dismissive and unaffected, Sabé was definitely beginning to feel out of her element with what was happening. "I don't see why that's anyone's concern but my own."

Across from her, the Twi'Lek spoke up in a delicate accent. "It's because you figured it out, didn't you," she asked, her voice distinctly calming and personable. She didn't play herself as close to the sleeve as Daggoth did. "He's one of many."

The hairs on her skin stood up straight as Sabé's private theory, the one she'd only shared with Obi-Wan, was suddenly about to no longer be something in the back of her own mind. Unable to keep her voice from faltering slightly, her drink was forgotten. "One of many _what_?"

"Agents placed within our department by someone higher up with a dark agenda," Nezuma replied in a tenor voice that bore quite the thick Sullustan accent. He sounded approachable and kind, if a little apprehensive.

With a lazy hand on the mixstick in his dark green drink, Braxis gave a cynical huff and sent a hooded glance her way. "But as far as _what_ dark agenda… that's the question of the century."

A brief silence materialized, in which Sabé felt her guard go up again. This _could_ be some kind of trap after all. So she pretended to be mildly amused and high-handed. "So. I've caught the eye of a bunch of conspiracy theorists, is that it?"

Braxis's expression remained focused, gaining intensity as he leaned a little closer and dropped his voice in volume a notch. "The Jedi Master you're in league with. What's that about?"

Face slackening, Sabé felt another prick of fear. "I saw you with him," Daggoth explained readily, neither smug nor accusing, merely factual. "Obi-Wan Kenobi. You have famous friends, Nebira." Now trying to keep her front neutral, Sabé was having a hard time because these people knew too much and she felt a sinking sensation. Had she really been so sloppy? What else had she done that had been noticed by these people? Let alone others? "You two seemed very familiar," the Bothan continued. "And not long after that, you're made Crisis Branch liaison to the Council." Daggoth's lion-like face held a great amount of certainty in its expression. "The two are related. I guarantee it."

Sabé wasn't given a chance to respond. "What were you looking for when you accessed the secure archives?" Voth asked, her tone remaining gentle and beseeching, trustworthy in nature.

With a dry mouth, Sabé lied on instinct. "I… lost some files from a directive, I needed to replace them so that my case records weren't incomplete."

Braxis gave a little disbelieving laugh. "Both times, or is that just your excuse for today?"

Thunderstuck all over again, Sabé's capacity to breathe deeply was taken away. _Both times?_ They knew about her looking into Kamino initially too then. If _they_ knew—fellow agents who were all only considered mid-level clearance in most cases—who else did? Is that why Isard had looked at her the way he did? Did the director of RDI know about the things she'd done in secret?

As if he knew her thoughts, Nezuma finished his current sip and dismissed her fears with the wave of a gloved hand. "Don't worry, sunshine," he said with genuine pleasantness. "I cleaned up behind you. Both times. Only _we_ know what you did." He fixed her with a smile that was half-hidden behind his jowls, one she supposed was friendly but she hadn't spent a lot of time around Sullustans so reading his expressions was a little tricky. "Surveillance on your tech shows you've been poking around into _quite_ some interesting places," he continued, then winked, which was difficult to misinterpret. "You're lucky we've been keeping on eye on you. I need to show you some tricks for not leaving yourself exposed." He chuckled easily, shaking his head as if he somehow found it endearing.

"Now what were you trying to find, and for whom?" Daggoth asked, his tone distinctly gentle and considerate, yet still intense.

Sabé had walked in here feeling a different kind of nervous than she did now. Now there was a sudden new knowledge that made her feel unsure of everything. Singled out and backed into a corner. "Why should I tell you that? Why should I trust you?"

"Did you not just hear him?" Braxis asked, no effort made to curb the insolence burgeoning in his voice. "He made sure you were safe from the real threat. _Twice_."

Sabé shot him a challenging, long look. "And what's the real threat?"

Braxis answered readily. "This department."

A declaration that made Sabé feel like the wind had been knocked out of her. Another brief silence amplified, then Voth offered a smile as truce. "We're not the enemy, Agent Nebira."

"This group here is a made up of individuals who have come to the conclusion that our department is corrupt," Braxis continued. "More corrupt than within your or possibly _anyone's_ comprehension. _Someone_ is puppeting the entire agency. Possibly the entire _Republic_."

Sabé had endured some suspicions over the past couple of years, yes—but this felt like a bridge too far, and she felt her doubtfulness rise up to affect her facial expression. Having remained silent and watchful up until now, Jego Tavu, the reporter, spoke up, his voice smooth and eyes attentive. "Don't doubt the obvious," he advised. "That's what they want."

Sabé considered deep and hard, considering his words. Everything they were saying did ring true. Maybe she was at the point of insanity. But… an instinct deeper than deep told her she could admit the following without fear. "I was looking for incriminating evidence that would show that RDI knew about a military force being created behind the back of the people."

That certainly had effect on those present. "And who asked you to look into that?" Daggoth asked with great interest. Sabé shook her head. She wasn't about to implicate Obi-Wan in all this, although she knew it was probably an easy guess after they'd already knew that the two of them were in league somehow. Her silence and refusal to reply elicited a broodingly thoughtful _hmm_ from the Bothan. "You either work for someone or you're working on your own. I highly doubt the latter."

"Are you working for the Jedi Order?" Braxis pressed, earning a darting look that turned into a defiant stare.

"I'm not working for anyone but RDI."

"Well maybe you should reconsider that choice," Voth said, her deliberate and gentle tone allowing Sabé to feel a little less singled-out.

Casting an inquiring look around the table, Sabé was beginning to understand that being asked here tonight had long planned and heavily debated. Braxis seemed the most unsure about her presence there. "How long have you been… meeting like this?" she asked, her thoughts beginning to shift from nervousness to curiosity.

"Five years," Daggoth said, sending a respecting smile across the table at the Twi'Lek. "It started off just me and Leda."

Sabé could make sense of the agents here, but as far as Tavu, she sent a questioning frown his way. "How did a reporter get involved?"

Jego Tavu seemed to have anticipated the question and had his answer ready. "I used to work for RDI. Low level intelligence analyst but… I noticed things. A lot of things." He smiled ruefully. "I left to get out before I got in too deep but… I soon discovered RDI isn't the only place being exploited." He appeared troubled as he held her gaze intentionally. "The media is controlled similarly. It's _all_ connected. The question is, by who?" A brief, tense silence ensued, then Tavu declared the mission. "When we have enough evidence, when we figure out who or what is behind this scheme—we'll show the entire _galaxy_ the truth."

For a moment, she felt amazement, but it was quickly schooled into doubt as she realized that people might not accept the truth. She could already hear the outcries of 'conspiracy theory' and 'propaganda' and as she thought about how easily the very real truth could be covered over and denied, oppressed, forgotten—that only served to both add to her dismay while simultaneously confirming the feeling that these people were onto something very real. "So what happens when they don't believe?" she asked.

"That's why we're only going to reveal what we know when we have enough proof and a method to share it that they can never manipulate or oppress," Daggoth said. "That's why we're creating and identifying cells within all the most powerful branches of government and media. The more of us there are waiting for the right moment, the better chance we have."

It began to dawn on Sabé with a tremendous sense of awe. "So there's more of you," she breathed, a sudden feeling like hope lighting up inside of her.

"Yes, but for now, we keep everything disconnected," Tavu said. "The people at my work who I've gathered don't meet with the members of this group and vice versa. It's for safety purposes."

Nodding, her heart beating quickly as the reality of what she was discovering and being let into sank in, Sabé found herself leaning in, eager to know everything she could. "What does it entail? Being part of this… this group."

"Keeping your eyes open," Daggoth said. " _Wide_ open. Learning as much as you can and taking any opportunities possible to investigate our superiors."

"Identify and curate agents and others who will work with us to find and expose the truth," Tavu added.

"It won't be a short journey either," Braxis put in. "Could take years. A lifetime. Who knows."

"And don't say yes before you consider how dangerous this is," Leda Voth advised, her expression full of empathetic warning.

"One wrong move could get us all killed," Nezuma said, his voice now carrying a note of hesitancy and sadness. "Our families and friends too. Did you hear what happened to Andros?"

Sabé hesitated. Grigg Andros was her old director, and had been fired in the first round of what Isard had called a department cleanup. "He retired to Rodia," she said uncertainly, a sudden feeling of dread creeping in.

"That's what RDI reported to the media," Braxis said bluntly. "He's dead. And _all_ the other 'corrupt' directors Isard fired are dead or will be soon."

"Tragic accidents, sudden medical conditions, mysterious disappearances…" Tavu listed off bleakly.

"He fired all of them to give Palpatine more power," Braxis muttered contentiously.

Voth was gentle in her firm reply. "We don't know that for sure yet."

"Who has bigger motive to gain?" Braxis retorted, and it was obvious he'd made his mind up. "That man has been hungry for power since day _one_."

"Those directors might have been like us," Daggoth added in darkly. "They knew too much and got caught."

The stakes and reality were really beginning to reveal themselves and Sabé suddenly felt a sense of not belonging in this to the extent she suddenly found herself in. As if he could see her thought line, Tavu caught her eye. "Look," he said, steering the conversation back. "You and Daggoth have an _in_ with Isard as of today. We already had our eye on you, but now? Things are just lined up too well to let another day pass."

"You'll both be expected to report to him regularly, possibly even given opportunities to get information from his office and tech," Nezuma agreed.

Gesturing first to Sabé and then to Daggoth, Tavu was emphatic. " _You're_ intermediary to the Jedi, _he's_ intermediary to the Loyalist Committee," he continued intently. "Don't underestimate how valuable these positions are. Or how much we need you. Not just the five of us here—it's the free people of the Republic who have made the mistake of trusting their corrupt government who need you. More than they may ever know."

Daggoth shifted beside Sabé, fixing her with a questioning look. "What do you think, Nebira? Will you join us?"

Left speechless and feeling like the question was sudden—even though it had been building up since she first sat down—Sabé tried to come up with words.

"You may not know us, but you're like us," Leda Voth said at her indecisive, vexed silence. "Ethics matter to you. Justice. Liberty. The principles we all swore to uphold when we took the oaths to work at the Republic Department of Intelligence. That's why you're here at all."

Sabé couldn't deny that was true. "Yes, but. What you're talking about here…" she could come up with no better way than the following two words. "Is _treason_."

Tavu smiled wearily, a cynical expression. "Treason to one is justice to another."

"But which one in that scenario holds the power to throw us all in prison or worse?" Sabé countered.

"Exactly," Tavu replied to her surprise. "The wrong ones hold that power."

"Which is we won't rest until we wake the galaxy up and give that power back to the _people,_ " Braxis said vehemently.

"You've already woken up to reality, and now you know too much to walk away," Nezuma said. Not in a threatening way, but in a sympathetic way, almost.

"The system has to be taken apart from the inside out," Voth said softly, her expression tensely convinced. "Either you help us, or you're complicit in the abuse of power."

When it was put that way, Sabé felt utter conviction and knew what she had to do. Perhaps everything had always been leading up to this.

"You won't be safe if you join us," Daggoth counseled gravely. "But… you'll be doing the right thing. You'll be on the right side of history."

And he was right. She would be.

The day that Sabé went to a decrepit bar in the lower levels of Coruscant and agreed to work as an informant with the secret operation known then as only The Group, she became part of the birth of a vast and powerful movement that would in the end define the very fate of the galaxy and ultimately bring a system of evil and oppression to its knees. This movement, eventually, would become more widely known as the Rebel Alliance.

* * *

War began to tear the galaxy apart, changing almost every facet of life. Coruscant's Core Square became home to the newly-constructed Republic Center for Military Operations, the naval shipyards extending out from behind her heavily fortified structure. The roar of the fleet's many capital ships and squadrons was a constant new drone in the already prolific noise of the city.

Jedi Knights militarized, leading the charge against the sudden surge of Separatist forces that attacked system after system. Anakin was knighted out of necessity and given his own Padawan. Zana enlisted in the emergency volunteer medic corps and halted her studies to be able to go wherever the need was. Padmé remained a constant force to be reckoned with in the Senate and otherwise.

While Sabé was still given normal assignments here and there, she was mostly left splitting time between the Jedi Temple war rooms, RDI headquarters, and constant briefings with her fellow liaisons, Director Isard, and his board of sub-directors. Wartime developments came in at an alarming pace. Contact and communication with The Group remained minimal and careful—with all the members being in 'eyes open' mode for the time being.

Sleep was little, and stress and fear overflowed.

While Sabé didn't see Obi-Wan at length for the first few months of what the public began to call the Clone Wars, there were little moments that gave relief to her worry and peace to her unrest: Seeing him in passing and sharing a little smile across the distance. Coming across his name in reports. Hearing his voice and knowing he was close and okay. Locking eyes briefly during one of the meetings she or the other liaisons conducted.

The two of them shared a few brief passing conversations that were forever tinged by that same delicate strain they seemed to be doomed to live with. It usually went the same way: one of them asked how the other was, the other one either joked or was honest and the heaviness of the situation tinted their smiles with sadness and polluted their attempts to be positive with turmoil. Once or twice, their conversations tiptoed into deeper waters—their worries about Zana and Anakin, their worries for each other, their fears for the galaxy at large. Sabé couldn't speak for Obi-Wan, but many things felt unsaid on her end. And she suspected on his too.

It was around the fourth month of this new way of life that Sabé began to accept that the deep and constant feeling of longing centered around Obi-Wan would probably never go away like she'd once imagined it would. The only relief was that they had found a way to exist and interact despite whatever feelings they had. Still… the depths of what Sabé felt for Obi-Wan only grew deeper, leaving her with only one conclusion she had tried to avoid for quite some time now. She thought in a different lifetime she would judge herself for falling in love with a Jedi Knight like she so undeniably had. But in this lifetime, all she could do was hold on and love him from afar, accepting the fact that they would never be together. She willed herself to be strong enough to love without expectation of mutuality. But… the most difficult part in all of it was that Obi-Wan did a poor job in many moments of hiding how he felt. They never spoke of it, but Sabé swore she could see it reflecting back to her from the depths of his eyes… the same things she felt. And that wounded and healed her heart at the same time.

However, with all things… breaking points are inevitable, even when resolves are set. Even a Jedi Master cannot withstand the eventualities forever. And about five months into the wars, Obi-Wan would make a decision that would begin to reveal just how deeply his feelings went.

* * *

**Mid Rim  
** **Deep Space**

On the bridge of the flagship _Resolute_ , Anakin was lit blue in the dark interior as he reviewed several incoming messages on the secure frequency used by the Republic Naval forces. At his side, his Padawan learner Ahsoka stood ready and alert as always. While she'd only been his apprentice for a couple of months, she was quickly becoming a regular, endearing fixture in his life.

Anakin leaned forward as one of the messages that was coming across caught his eye. He paused the screen, squinting at the readout. "Bail Organa and his intelligence agent escort were boarded in the Bryx sector and then apprehended by Dooku…" he muttered darkly, rubbing his chin with his gloved finger and shaking his head. These moves of Dooku's were so unpredictable. He read further down on the report and his face went soft in surprise. "Wait. His escort was _Sabé_."

Behind him where he'd been making some notes, he heard Obi-Wan immediately turn around. "What?" The older Jedi was promptly at Anakin's side, reading the message for himself with a hard expression.

"Sabé is that RDI agent who runs the meetings sometimes, right?" Ahsoka asked. Anakin nodded, still reading.

"Looks like Dooku took them to Kijimi," he said with grim thoughtfulness. "Not good."

Ahsoka didn't understand. "What's wrong with Kijimi, Master?"

"It's a Separatist controlled and occupied planet, government's really unstable there." Anakin set his mouth in a hard, brief line. "If the Republic makes any moves there, it'll be considered an act of war."

Ahsoka sounded almost amused. "But we're already _at_ war."

Anakin folded his arms and turned to look down at his much shorter apprentice. "Right, but it would create a whole new issue where there isn't one—start another battle when we're spread pretty thin as is." He let out a dark sigh, glancing at the screen again unhappily. "Dooku did that on purpose. _Coward_."

"So they're just… on their own?" Ahsoka asked in disbelief. "What could Dooku want with them, anyway?"

"Dunno. Hopefully the Republic will launch a covert rescue operation," Anakin said, not liking it either but understanding the game of war better every day out on the front lines. "I'll see if I can find out more." He then realized the space where Obi-Wan had been a few sentences ago was empty and he looked around in confusion. The Master was nowhere to be seen on the bridge. "Where's Obi-Wan?" Aghast because it didn't seem like his former master at _all_ , Anakin looked out into the darkness of space outview the viewing deck. "...He can't be doing what I think he's doing."

"Which is what?" Ahsoka asked, trying to understand what was happening.

Anakin moved, scrutinizing the ship surveillance readout on another nearby tech station. There, sure enough, he saw that one of their smaller ships was deploying at that very second from the main hangar bay. Not sure how to respond to this unprecedented development, Anakin's voice was a low, disbelieving murmur. "Going to Kijimi."


	23. A Very Telling Choice

He first became aware of something besides the darkness and silence when he heard his name being spoken urgently—at first sounding very far away and muffled, and then very close indeed. "Bail. _Bail._ " Everything was shaking.

The Alderaanian Senator groaned and began to stir, opening his eyes to a lopsided world in disorientation. For a few seconds, he didn't know where he was or what had happened before grim remembrance came back: the voyage towards Eufornis Major to provide aide, the subsequent ambush in deep space between jumps by Dooku and his droid forces. The valiant effort to resist capture, then the unfortunate end of it all: himself and Agent Nebira being taken and brought here while the rest of the ship's crew had been killed mercilessly.

"Senator Organa," her voice came again, tense with insistence. Bail lifted his head off the hard and cold permacrete ground.

"I'm awake, I'm awake," he muttered, head full of pain as he squinted and saw that they were still in the frigid and dark warehouse Dooku had been holding them in for the past twelve or more hours. Cold wind and fluttering snow blew in from the far end of the warehouse which remained wall-less to allow the space to act as a hangar bay. In the distance even under the darkness of night, silver moonlight highlighted breathtaking snow-swathed mountain ranges.

"Can you get up?" she asked, and he groaned as he craned his neck upwards to see his companion. Agent Sabé Nebira was crouched down at his side with her hands on his shoulder—her wrists were in binders just as his were. Sabé been along under cover to do something he still didn't know the details of at their final destination. Which, he woozily realized, wasn't going to be reached now.

"Yes, I think so," he said, and then made his best effort to stand. Sabé helped haul him up, surprisingly much stronger than her more petite build gave away. Chains holding both the agent and the senator rattled noisily, securely keeping them tethered to Dooku's nearby ship. Perhaps if that had been their only confinement, escape would have been possible, but as Bail looked up at the soft pink ray shield bubbling over them—something that hadn't been there before he'd lost consciousness—a renewed sense of grim doom settled over him heavily. "This… is not the way I envisioned our day to go," he said with resignation. The odds were not good here. When Dooku had initially brought them here to Kijimi, Bail had caught enough of a glimpse to see that the place they were being held was an underdeveloped and remote city set in a wilderness of frigid mountain ranges—and knowing this was a Separatist-aligned system, the only conclusion Bail could draw was that this was a very dire circumstance indeed.

Turning with a limp due to the place where he'd been stabbed in the leg during interrogation, Bail remembered the moment he'd passed out now—the knife had slowly sank in and touched his bone. The pain was great still. His only relief was that he hadn't given the information to these monsters that they so wanted. He evaluated his ally: Sabé was beat up similarly to him, her dark bluegreen flightsuit dirty, hair mussed up and half out of the tail it had been neatly in earlier. One of her cheeks was nicked by a red streak of blood and he saw a telling arm wound where they'd attempted a similar method they'd used on Bail's leg. "How bad are you hurt?" she asked him intently.

Bail shook his head. "Forget about me. How is your condition?"

Dark humor was delivered without incredible unhappiness. "To be honest with you I've been better."

He supposed she was more trained for this type of situation than he, but that still didn't make him feel too much better. Bail peered around at the gigantic warehouse, seeing no sign of Dooku, who had left them early on to the hands of his interrogation squad of droids. Those droids were gone now, replaced by a few spindly battle droids that stood around at the warehouse hangar entrance with blasters, but other than that, it was suspiciously quiet. "Why have we been left alone?" he asked, a keen sense of danger making his senses suddenly much more sharp.

"I dunno," Sabé said, her eyes on her blasters which had been taken away and were resting on a crate that was several paces away, outside of their deadly prison of the ray shield. "We need to try and get out of here," she said intensely.

Bail looked around again, seeing no way of doing that. Getting to those blasters would be helpful, but then what? He looked around, taking in all possibilities: all there was to be seen were crates of supplies, a large trash compactor chute, and Dooku's ship, which was just outside of the ray shield. Stealing that vessel would be the only way he could think of, but the challenges of escaping the ray shields and their chained binders didn't seem possible. "How do you propose to do that?" he asked, shaking his head with a drawn expression on his face. "At this rate, we need a miracle, Agent." He gave her an apologetic and cowed look. "I was foolish to disregard your advice with the jumps."

She shook her head tiredly. "Don't focus on that right now." She had intent eyes on the droids, possibly forming some kind of plan—but then she straightened and tensed, suddenly fearful eyes on the entrance to the warehouse. " _Kriff._ "

Following her gaze, Bail felt his stomach drop. _Dooku_. The former Jedi turned terrorist entered at a steady pace, his all-black ensemble standing stark to his white hair. His long cape whipped around him, a foreboding sight. He approached them with a congeniality that did not fit the circumstances at hand, and de-activated the ray shields with the press of an elegant finger to the nearby control panel. " _Well,_ " he commented heavily, beginning a slow circle around their perimeter. "I hear neither of you has been very cooperative with my interrogation forces." He almost seemed regretful, which only inspired rage to boil in Bail's blood as he and Sabé turned a slow circle in tandem with the Separatist leader. Dooku finally stopped, and while he remained gallant in his posture and with the tone in which he addressed them, threats lurked in his dark eyes. "You _will_ tell me the frequency encryption being used by the Republic before we're done here."

Swallowing hard because resisting the droids' tactics had been difficult enough, Bail felt his skin prickling with panic. He and Sabé already knew that when they caved and gave over the frequencies, they'd be killed immediately so that the Republic wouldn't know it was suddenly vulnerable to being listened in on. It could turn the entire tide of the war in the Separatist's favor if Dooku got this information from them. That's why Bail knew that they were resigned to a fate of dying here today. The only hope he could muster was that neither of them would give over the encryptions—and instead take the information that Dooku wanted with them to their graves.

"What's your angle in all this, Dooku?" Sabé asked acidly, perhaps buying time. Or perhaps just satisfying a personal curiosity. "What could you possibly have to personally gain from waging this doomed war on the Republic?"

Dooku was patronizing. "My dear," he oozed, "I'm afraid you're mistaken. The only ones doomed here are the two of you. Unless of course you'd like to join the winning side? I'm sure we could find use for you." When she said nothing, Dooku sent a solicitous look to Bail. Stony, Bail let his glare be his reply. With airs of drama, Dooku sighed and shook his head as if he were regretful. "A pity. It's a shame you'd force my hand like this." He clasped those hands behind his back and stood directly in front of Sabé, choosing her as his first subject. "The frequencies. Now." She said nothing, only lifted her chin fractionally to stare with cool defiance into his eyes, then in a flash of spiteful rage, she spit in his face. Blinking several times, Dooku's expression darkened dangerously and he wiped at his cheek and eye, then with a flash of utter fury, that hand suddenly shot toward her and lightning burst out, its spindly cracking fingers consuming Sabé's top half in a crawling mass of pain electricity. Screams of anguish came immediately as she convulsed.

"Stop this!" Bail cried, and Dooku did, toying with them.

"Would _you_ like to give me the code, Senator?" the Count asked, then smiled leisurely. "End your friend's suffering. It's the noble thing to do."

Bail gritted his teeth hard in his mouth, seeing how Sabé staggered and struggled to remain standing. "You'll kill us the second you have them," he said. "We'll tell you _nothing_."

Dooku raised a doubtful, dark eyebrow. His voice grew more low and sinister, bordering on gleeful. "Oh, I doubt that." He again blasted Sabé with lighting, and her blood-curdling screams echoed horribly.

"Leave her alone!" Bail shouted desperately. She fell down into a heap when Dooku relented.

"Certainly," Dooku said pleasantly, taking a few steps toward the politician. "As soon as one of you tells me what I want to know."

"Someone will come for us," Bail declared shakily, his eyes nervously darting between Sabé—was she dead?—and Dooku. "You know they will."

Dooku seemed amused by Bail's emotions. "I know they _won't,_ " he countered sympathetically, that wicked smile playing on his face still. "Only a fool would come to a Separatist controlled planet."

Indignant at the injustice of it all, the senator protested vehemently. "We've seen your troops here, and there are next to none!" He had seen _one_ small battalion staged nearby when they flew in—hardly the crushing forces in the tens of thousands that had been reported by RDI.

Dooku looked very pleased with himself. "If only the Republic knew what you did, I'm sure they would come running." He chuckled easily. "No one will save you, Senator Organa." He contemplated the terrified politician briefly, then continued his cowardly attempt to cause Bail to break—using someone else's pain to do so. Sabé had lifted her head off the ground, her face anguished. "Let us try a new method." He strode over and yanked Sabé to her feet by the front of her flightsuit, where she breathlessly defied him silently, despite the clear pain she was in. "The encryptions," he said, unspoken threats and demands in the two words. There was a sudden sensation of the frequency of air shifting, a deep and low thundering rumble pressing in. Bail felt astonishment grow as he realized Dooku was using the Force in some way to try and invade Sabé's mind.

Teeth gritted in growing animalistic concentration, Sabé became red in the face, trembling and shaking. " _No!_ " she snarled, and Dooku pressed further, drawing a groan from her that turned into a scream of defiance and agony alike. A trickle of red came out of Sabé's nose, and her determined expression lapsed into a shocked, wounded slack face. She went limp, eyes losing clarity as stupor set in.

And then, a barrage of laserfire sounded and Bail and Dooku alike looked in confusion at the mouth of the hangar—where the droids that had been on guard had been either sliced in half, shoved to the far walls to break into pieces, or hit with refractions of their own laserfire. " _Dooku_!" came a terrible and commanding shout. Bail stared at the unmistakable sight of a Jedi Master he knew. Already striding in with his brown robes fluttering behind him, his white armor a stark contrast and bright blue lightsaber at his side—Obi-Wan Kenobi. "Surrender now," the Jedi said, the buzzing end of his weapon pointing directly at Dooku from about twenty feet off. His expression was dangerous and harrowed, promising retribution and harm to anyone who stood in the way.

Dooku couldn't hide his blatant shock at the intrusion, his grip on Sabé's limp form faltering a bit. "Master Kenobi."

"You look surprised," Obi-Wan observed in a tight voice. He was nowhere near the nonplussed General that Bail had encountered a few times before. On edge was putting it mildly. " _Let them go_. I will not ask again."

While Dooku _had_ been caught off guard, his observant eyes began to evaluate the single Jedi Knight as he processed the situation. "Pardon the cliché… but you and what army?" he asked, eyes narrowed thoughtfully. He took in the way Obi-Wan's eyes left his, just for a flicker of a second, to dart to Sabé's barely conscious form. " _Ah…!_ " Dooku breathed, a dawning smile on his face. "Intriguing!" he exclaimed softly, seeming to have happened onto something that pleased and fascinated him greatly. "Your feelings betray you, young Jedi," he said softly. While Bail didn't understand, Obi-Wan's drawn expression turned a shade more sickened. "You're more Qui-Gon's apprentice than I thought," Dooku declared as if he were somehow gratified, then he threw Sabé aside like a piece of trash where she fell to a motionless heap on the ground. Dooku thoroughly enjoyed the reaction that elicited from Kenobi—a very obvious ruffling of the feathers was followed by a flash of vengeance in his eyes and a tightening of his hands on his weapon, which he now gripped with two hands. Dooku drew his slanted lightsaber artfully, a knowing smile on his face.

Bail felt himself step back, fear filling him as he realized what was about to happen. Even as his foot slipped back and found ground, Dooku's saber blazed to life with a foreboding and deep _bzzt_ , and Obi-Wan dropped his robe and leapt forward, his blue saber cracking loud as it was blocked by Dooku's. They pushed against each other's weapon, locked like that briefly as Obi-Wan's feet pushed and turned—he pressed Dooku back and away, turning them in a slow circle as his gritted teeth and a furious expression betrayed the amount of focus and effort required. Dooku allowed Obi-Wan to turn him and then back him up a few steps obligingly, his easy smile offset by the dark glint in his eyes. He was toying with the younger Jedi, or so he thought. And once Obi-Wan had created enough distance between them and the captives, he unleashed a furious assault, his sword almost impossible to catch sight of as his offensive pressed Dooku back even further. A free hand flying out to catch a supply crate and send it slamming into his opponent, Obi-Wan used the moment when Dooku threw a hand out to stop the crate to attempt a double-handed overhead kill blow—Dooku's red lightsaber blocked the blow a mere scant inches from his own face and cracks in his confidence showed as the two of them remained in another brief standoff, their weapons whining against each others.

"You didn't fight like this the last time we met," Dooku said breathily, his enjoyment diluted by the beginnings of worry. Still, he appeared to relish the emotion written on Obi-Wan's face. "Do you see how passion brings you to life?" he hissed. "How it gives you purpose?"

Obi-Wan was nearly snarling with effort at this point as their sabers crackled against each other. "Enough of your useless lecturing," he managed, then suddenly jumped backwards in an un-natural, Force assisted swooping flip, landing in a ready half-crouch about ten feet away. He gave his saber a deft twirl, waiting for Dooku to make his next move. Instead, the Count lowered his weapon to his side and began a slow circle which Obi-Wan watched with heightening apprehension.

"Too long the Jedi Order has insisted on its old ways," Dooku said, though not as smoothly as before. He was out of breath. "And because of that, you will all fall." He lowered his chin fractionally.

Obi-Wan shook his head, purposefully, only twice. "I don't think so, Dooku."

A leisurely chuckle came from the other Jedi, who now stood between Obi-Wan and the two captives. "It is too late, young Kenobi."

Bail would always wonder how that standoff would have ended if it hadn't been for what happened next.

A sudden flurry of movement and sound caused both of them to look out toward the hangar exit, where the unmistakable scream of laserfire could be both heard and seen—in the sky where only snow and night had been a few moments before, the huge shadowy shape of a Republic Star Destroyer could be seen in space above. Low altitude assault transports swooped in close, engaging the few droid forces present in combat.

Dooku's demeanor had changed to astonished and afraid, and he took a step back, clearly set to be outwitted at his own game. "You were saying?" Obi-Wan asked, his clear intent to capture Dooku here and now written plainly on his face.

Obi-Wan matched Dooku's step back, moving forward warningly. And then Dooku glanced at Sabé and a spark of clairvoyance lit. "Unfortunately, I'm afraid you're about to have to make a difficult decision," he said ominously. "Save the woman's life, or pursue me. Your choice, Master Kenobi." And without anything further he threw a hand out, sending Sabé's barely-conscious body hurtling through the air with so much force that the chain connection on the binders snapped. Like a ragdoll, she hurtled down the trash compactor chute to the underground compartment below, and Dooku again used the Force to activate the compacting cycle and then crushed his hand into a fist, breaking the console so that there was no stopping the machine's work.

There was only a microsecond of hesitation on Obi-Wan's part, and just as Dooku had counted on, the Jedi Master sprinted to the trash compactor, his lightsaber turning off as he willingly jumped down the chute and into the slowly-compacting mechanism. Bail was left to watch Dooku board his ship and send a dangerous glare back the Senator's way before he disappeared. The ship fired up and shot out of the hangar, arcing up into the sky and taking a few stray lasers before ascending into the atmosphere and launching into hyperspace.

Bail watched helplessly then looked at the chute where Obi-Wan and Sabé had both disappeared. He could hear the machine's low grunting work and he found himself frozen with a face twisted in worry as he waited with shallow breaths.

And then at what seemed to be the last possible second, Obi-Wan reappeared—Sabé held tightly against him but unresponsive. They both looked markedly dingier than a moment before, and even as a subtle movement of Obi-Wan's fingers accompanied the Force-assisted breaking of Bail's binders, he was left to catch up to the Jedi's stride toward the exit of the hangar. "Master Kenobi, is she alive?" he asked urgently.

Obi-Wan's face was a mask of grimness. "Only just," he said, and as they came to the hangar exit, a transport gently came down out of the sky to hover, the door sliding open to reveal another Jedi whose face Bail recognized. Obi-Wan did too, and he seemed to be momentarily startled and grateful alike. "Anakin, what are you doing here?"

Skywalker jumped out of the transport to meet his former Master on the ground, a ready smile on his young face as he set a hand onto Obi-Wan's shoulder. "Couldn't let you break rank without having your back covered," he said, the Kijimi wind whipping his lengthening hair around wildly. He sent a quick look around at the laserfire being exchanged by clones and droids, then urged them into the shuttle. "Now come on, we need to get back to the cruiser before I regret my decision."

* * *

Safely aboard the _Resolute_ again, Obi-Wan had watched Bail and Sabé both hurried off to the medical bay and was anxious to follow, but knew there was one bit of business he needed to see to first. Namely, his former apprentice, who was waiting with crossed arms and a half amused, half skeptical expression on his face. "So… are you going to explain what all that was?" Anakin asked when Obi-Wan turned around to look away from the retreating shapes of the medical staff. "Leaving without saying a word?"

Obi-Wan crossed his arms too. The enormous Star Destroyer hangar bay was quiet, but the huge space caused voices to carry. Therefore, Obi-Wan spoke lowly. "You know very well I didn't leave without saying a word," he replied, in a frankly ill mood. He was distracted and worried, eager to go to the medical bay.

"Well _technically_ you did _,_ " Anakin replied.

Obi-Wan let out a stiff breath of air. "I was in a _hurry_."

"To go against directives," Anakin said. He wasn't angry or accusing, he seemed more fascinated than anything else.

Obi-Wan knew he'd acted in an unexpected way, but Anakin wasn't portraying the situation _exactly_ as it'd happened. It was true that Obi-Wan had left the bridge wordlessly, but when he'd launched from _Resolute's_ hangar and into space, he had indeed hailed the bridge to tell Anakin _I'm going to Kijimi, don't follow me. I'll explain later._ He'd then cut off the ability to communicate and launched into hyperspace. "I didn't have time for whatever arguments I would inevitably face," Obi-Wan said, which was mostly true. "Promptness was essential."

Anakin tilted his head to the side, his perplexed and interested gaze trying to figure him out. "The Obi-Wan I know would never dream of doing what you did today."

There was a pause that was just a little too long to be natural. "Well perhaps you still have things to learn about your old master, did you think of that?" Obi-Wan asked with a note of cynicism.

Anakin made a bit of a face. "Normally I'd disagree because you're terribly predictable but… hey, maybe you're right." He fixed his peer with a rueful shake of the head. "You're welcome, by the way. For getting you out of there."

Nodding, Obi-Wan did have to admit he was incredibly grateful. "Yes. Thank you."

Still fixated on understanding, Anakin studied him with interest and the faintest confusion. "I think this has to do with Sabé," he said, the deduction causing an immediate jolt in Obi-Wan's veins. "I've never known you to be someone to let personal feelings get in the way. Or be so reckless." Anakin's perceptive gaze remained neutral, but knowing. "Right now, you're worrying about her. I can sense it."

Obi-Wan resisted the urge to hide and lie. He did not operate in that way, and he refused to begin now. "Yes, I'll readily admit it," he said, telling the truth… mostly. Still, his pulse picked up and he felt uncomfortable. "She is a very dear friend of mine, and I make no secret of that fact either. But besides whatever regard I might hold her in, she's someone with absolutely classified information and resources. Dooku holding her was _dangerous_. To let her stay in his grip—I couldn't allow it."

Thoughtful, Anakin nodded, but a degree of doubt remained. "You're sure that's it?" he asked, eyes far too keen for Obi-Wan's liking.

"What else would it be?" he challenged, careful not to sound as defensive as he felt. He was sure he would face even more criticism from the Council soon for his choice. But it was done, and he would not apologize for it either. "Anakin." He was tired and worn thin by all this. "I am a Jedi first and a General second. We've lost sight of who we are in this war. Defenders of the peace, and the ones who help those who cannot help themselves." Anakin's expression grew more understanding and he nodded. This was not the first time they'd had a conversation where Obi-Wan's distaste for this war and his worries about the Jedi Order's role in it had come up. And it certainly would not be the last. With a weary hand going to touch his former apprentice's shoulder, Obi-Wan gave him a fatigued smile. "Like you did today for me." A moment of fondness passed between the two men, who were no longer master and apprentice, but equal and equal. Friends, getting along better than they ever did in prior times. With a squeeze, Obi-Wan retreated backwards. "I'm going to go see how they're doing."

Anakin nodded, and watched Obi-Wan's carefully measured gait—not too fast and not too slow—carry him away.

* * *

In the medical bay, Obi-Wan's first discovery was a very big surprise indeed—one of the medic volunteers on board during this deployment was a familiar face who had been happy to see him, too. Zana Nebira. She was scrubbed up in the uniform of medic volunteers, a light blue ensemble. She had clearly been working hard too, bearing the signs of little sleep and long hours. After a brief surprised hello from each to the other, Obi-Wan greeted Bail, who was in the same bay as Sabé—and while she was still unconscious, Bail had been cleaned up, dosed with pain meds, and bandaged by another medic. He looked like he was feeling a lot better.

Upon asking, Zana reported that all of Sabé's vitals were fine, and all her injuries would heal. Some faster than others, but it wasn't as bad as it had perhaps seemed at first.

"So she'll be all right?" Obi-Wan surmised, his worried eyes taking in the mass of IVs that Sabé's unresponsive form laid under.

"Yes, I think so," Zana said, her own worries coloring her voice and making her young features drawn more tensely than normal. "I'm just not entirely sure why she's unconscious. She doesn't have the head injury markers for it." She looked at Bail for answers, clearly supposing he would know.

The reserved and soft-spoken Senator was grim. "Dooku was attempting to probe her mind I think, using the Force. She was resisting with everything she had. That's when I saw her lose consciousness."

"Resisting?" Obi-Wan repeated in mild incredulousness.

Bail nodded. "Yes. He was determined to get it out of us, and I imagine he did at the very end." His sorrowful and tense gaze rested on Sabé for a moment. "We'll need to send word to change the codes immediately."

Obi-Wan was overwhelmed by proxy. "That will be quite the undertaking."

Organa stood, silently agreeing and then giving the lightest bow. "I'm very glad you came when you did, Master Obi-Wan. I think we owe you our lives." He smiled tightly, at him and then Zana too. "If you'll excuse me. I'm going to send word of the need to change our channels over immediately."

Nodding, Obi-Wan watched him exit the bay then returned to watching Zana clean off Sabé's face of the soot, grime, and blood. Contemplating for a moment, Obi-Wan knew he had already behaved in telling ways today and apprehension told him he should leave now—not linger at Sabé's bedside because of what Anakin might think. But his other feelings won out, and he heavily took a seat at Sabé's bedside, drawing her sister's curious and then grateful smile. "Master Kenobi, thank you so much for getting her out of there," Zana said softly.

He listened to the heart-rate monitor for a second, eyes on Sabé's face. It could have been called peaceful. She looked like she was asleep. "I'm just glad I made it in time."

Zana silently agreed, busying herself selecting a bacta strip. "We're very lucky to know you," she said with intense earnestness, sending a quick thankful glance over him before she placed the bacta strip down across the cut on Sabé's cheek. That's when she faltered, voice catching. "I can't imagine facing the galaxy without her in it."

And neither could he. A thought that caused him enormous pause. "It would be a much darker place, to be sure."

That statement drew a flickering, unsure gaze from across Sabé's torso. Zana studied him briefly, as if trying to understand. "You know, my sister is… not one to get close to many people," she said momentarily, something that Obi-Wan already knew. Zana's next statement was curious and also specific at the same time. "You're one of her chosen few." If Zana was wondering why, so was Obi-Wan. He didn't know exactly the reason why he and Sabé had always had this inescapable dynamic and draw to each other. If someone asked him to explain, he was sure he would fail. Thankfully, all Zana did was straighten up, switch out her gloves, and bring over the med kit to where he sat. "Let's get some bacta on that cut."

He hadn't even noticed, but when she put the antiseptic against his neck at he felt the unmistakable sting of slashed skin. It must have happened in the trash compactor—a dark, crowded place full of sharp edges. As Zana did her work, Obi-Wan made polite conversation. "And how is life in the emergency volunteer field?" He knew from conversations with Sabé that Zana was working the hardest she ever had. And that her older sister worried about her a lot.

Zana smiled ruefully. "Hectic." She gently pressed bacta into his skin, a soothing sensation taking over the burning skin there. "But very worthwhile. I wanna do what I can, which doesn't feel like a whole lot when I compare myself to people like you and Sabé." She finished and peeled off her gloves with a plastic snap.

"All hands are needed, no matter their skill in the time of war," Obi-Wan said, drawing a tired and pleasant smile from Sabé's younger sister.

"That's a very nice thing to say," she said, then nodded out of the bay, where Obi-Wan knew other multiple bays lined the corridor. "I'm gonna go check my other patients. I'll be back. Buzz if you need."

Left alone with Sabé, Obi-Wan felt his guard loosen a little bit and he studied his friend with the same emotion that had caused him to so immediately go against orders. What he'd said to Anakin was true—true enough. This war had compromised the very duty of Jedi Knights, calling them forth into a place of bias and political alignment that did not sit well with him. No longer did they evaluate things on a case-by-case basis. Their job was this war. Fighting it, and hopefully ending it. But no end seemed in sight.

However, Anakin intuitively sensing and knowing Obi-Wan's more personal reasons for his actions today remained unsettling. The anger that Obi-Wan had felt today, the fear and desperation when he'd heard that this woman he cared so much about was in danger… he knew it was not acceptable and that it affected his ability to think rationally. But he also didn't know a different way to respond. His personal feelings on many things could be sidestepped. But not when it came to her.

Even as he thought that, his hand moved of its own accord as he leaned in more closely to touch the messy hair on her head gently. Stewing in his uncertainties would help nothing. He let his eyes fall closed and he reached out with his feelings, seeking healing and strength on her behalf, allowing these things to flow out of the Force into him, and then into her. He felt her stir deep down inside on a plane of existence that wasn't physical, rising up to meet his waiting spirit. And then their eyes opened at the same instant. His clear, alert. Hers confused, disoriented.

"Hello," he greeted softly.

"Dooku," she said in a confused rasp, a question and a fear at the same time.

Obi-Wan shook his head no, his hand still on her head, tender now in the way it rested. "Everything's all right now," he said, and her eyes stayed faintly confused, but now for a different reason. Her hand drifted up to touch his wrist as his hand stayed against her hair, a thumb gently stroking once.

And then Obi-Wan pulled away, his face dropping as someone entered just a fraction of a second after he broke the contact between them.

Anakin's, towering over everything in the bay, was accompanied by the shorter and much more lithe Ahsoka. "Sabé!" Anakin greeted heartily. "Glad to see you're all right." He chuckled. "Obi-Wan took quite the chance disobeying direct orders to go rescue you and Bail like that didn't he?"

Sabé, still a little stunned and slow from her state, looked at Obi-Wan with mild shock. "You did what?"

He met her gaze and thought she could probably see the reason why in his eyes—if not right now, then definitely in the moment that had just transpired between them. But outwardly, he smiled in an easygoing way. "Better to ask forgiveness than permission sometimes." She stared back, not in disbelief, but in touched, emotionally charged understanding.

Anakin was crossing the bed, missing the brief and intense exchange. "I've contacted Padmé," Anakin said. "She's a couple systems over and is going to come meet us and take you and Bail home where you can recover."

"Are you feeling all right?" Ahsoka asked, her Togruta features showing empathy. "Looks like Dooku was pretty rough with you."

"Yeah, what'd he want?" Anakin asked, growing a fraction more shrewd.

Sabé's energy remained low. "Republic frequencies and encryption codes. No doubt to spy on our communications." She shook her head grimly, like she was displeased with herself. "We'll need to change all of them, just in case."

"Bail's already seen to that," Obi-Wan told her, hoping that might ease her load.

Sabé did indeed appear to be relieved. "Oh, good." Another person entered the room and her face fell into shock. "What are you doing here?!" she asked, sitting up slightly in surprise then grimacing.

Zana smiled back, overjoyed and reassured to see her sister awake. "What's it look like?" she joked, then approached the bedside opposite of Obi-Wan. "How do you feel?"

Sabé grinned despite it all. "Terrible."

Zana shook her head, an unwillingly amused smile on her face. "Let's check your vitals." She turned to look at the Jedi with a kind but firm expression. "If we can clear the room, please."

They did as requested, Obi-Wan lingering in the doorway briefly before he left.

Zana looked at the datapad readout that listed all of Sabé's vitals and their status, checking through everything. It all looked good enough. Sabé's gaze remained on the doorway, a tense expression on her currently pale face. "Did you know he disobeyed orders to go get us?" she asked with a disquieted, unsure murmur.

Zana's eyebrows rose softly. She _hadn't_ known. She set the datapad down, for a moment setting her work aside to sit on the bed at her sister's side. "If I didn't know better…" she confessed, "I'd wonder if you two have something going on." Sabé scoffed immediately. Zana wasn't deterred. "The way he looks at you…?" she said, because she'd seen the little emotionally plain glances he'd been giving her for years—she remembered seeing this as far back as the night of the Naboo celebration. And Obi-Wan wasn't the only one who had been giving looks like that out. Sabé had too. "You can tell me," Zana said. "I wouldn't tell anyone."

Sabé shook her head, seeming immediately dismissive of it. "The only one Obi-Wan loves the Jedi Order. There's no place for anything else in his life." She paused then did admit: "In another world, maybe." Her eyes grew distant, a flicker of pain showing. "Just not this one."

Zana sought her sister's gaze, moving her face into Sabé's eyeline. "I think you're wrong," she said, optimism at the heart of everything she did, said, and thought. Listening to her with eyes that were open and vulnerable, Sabé almost seemed to be hearing her out. "Don't decide that you know the ending until it's actually here," she encouraged.

Sabé smiled ruefully and shook her head then touched the side of Zana's face. "My little dreamer." Making a face because her sister was always viewing her as young and little and a child, Zana rolled her eyes. Not mad, just annoyed in the most good natured of ways. "Sorry. You're always my baby," Sabé said, fingers coming to affectionately pinch Zana's chin. "Forever. Even when you're sixty." Zana batted her away with a chuckle, watching how Sabé grew more serious after a moment. "Can you request different placements with the corps?" she asked. "These front lines are dangerous. I don't want you out here." Zana's expression became vexed.

"How do you think I feel everyday with you running around out here constantly exposing yourself to danger?" she countered gently, determined. "The war can't last forever, Sabé. You have to have faith that everything will turn out for the best."

Sabé looked down at herself. "I don't have much luck with faith."

Zana touched the side of her arm, softly demanding her sister's gaze return. "Then let my faith be enough for the both of us," she said, letting her hand slide down into Sabé's to squeeze three times. One time for each word: _I love you_. Sabé smiled, helpless and touched at the callback to their special little code that Papa had taught her so long ago.


	24. Siege on Geonosis

The sun beat down mercilessly onto the orange-hued desert landscape of Geonosis, the extreme heat and unforgiving terrain creating a wretched wasteland that would be difficult to survive in if one were not either well prepared or a local. Lucky for the covert group of desert clone troopers led by Agent Nebira… they were well prepared.

A harsh but still somehow beautiful world, Geonosis's entire planetary surface was rough and dusty rock. Craggy plateaus swept up to steep cliffs, and in both high and low elevation, rocky formations stretched like wicked spires high up into the air. Treacherous mountain ranges marched along fault lines in the far distance.

Standing on a wide cliff shelf with a long, sheer dropoff in front and a high rock wall behind, Sabé held a pair of high-powered, ultra long distance electrobinoculars steady at her eyes. As she peered across the miles and miles of enormous valley beyond, wind whipped her knee length camouflaged cape around an RDI-commissioned armor suit. An open-face helmet designed to keep sun out of her eyes was held in place snugly with under-chin straps, and a high neck wrap protected the more delicate skin there from sunburn. Standing by watchfully with their blaster rifles armed, four desert clone troopers were currently at her command: Akland, Leo, Three, and Tater.

"Do you see anything?" Akland asked, his Mandalorian accented voice made slightly tinny through his trooper helmet.

She certainly did, and was tapping the built-in 'record' and 'take photo' buttons as she surveyed the faroff facility. Sabé and these clones had been dispatched here because the stationed RDI contact on Geonosis had stopped reporting a week ago. The suspicion was that the Separatists here had captured or killed the contact to keep something secret. And as of now, Sabé could confirm that those suspicions were true. "The droid foundries are operating again," she said darkly.

"Just like we thought," Leo said grimly, his voice an exact duplicate of Akland's.

Sabé shook her head faintly, still concentrating on collecting footage and assessing the situation. "No, not just like we thought. They've got ray shields over the entire structure."

Akland gave a pessimistic grunt. "That _does_ complicate things." From the distance that they were set apart from the facilities, the faint pink bubble of the ray shields wasn't apparent to the naked eye—only when Sabé had used the electrobinoculars had she seen this troubling new development. Ray shields of that size would present a major challenge on the assault that would no doubt be launched on the foundries.

"Any sign of Poggle?" Tater asked, stepping up a bit.

"He's right there," Sabé said, sweeping her electrobinoculars up to see the high tower in the center of the structure. Archduke Poggle the Lesser, leader of the Geonosians and a Separatist leader, was limping across an outdoor walkway from one section of the tower to the next. His twitching wings in addition to his buglike appearance sent little chills down Sabé's spine. "Hiding behind his laser shields," she assessed foully. She lowered the electrobinoculars, quickly transferred the files wirelessly to her comm, and then handed the unit over to Akland so he could have a look. He was the commanding clone in this small unit and would want to see for himself.

Sabé pulled out her holodisc and connected over secure frequency to the Outer Rim Command, who would be waiting. Two recognizable figures appeared in grainy, lined blue and she greeted them promptly. "Master Yoda, Master Windu." They nodded in greeting and she wasted no time. "We've confirmed that the foundries here are operational again. Some parts look rebuilt. I can see the export line of droids and transports. I'm sending footage and images now. The entire thing is ray-shielded."

She could see them looking off to the side as the files delivered on their end. She had sent not only her electrobinocular data, but footage from a small probe droid they'd sent to sweep the east side of the valley. "Disturbing, this is," Yoda commented as he looked through the collected data.

"Poggle is currently in one of the control towers of the foundry as you'll see in the footage," Sabé continued. "I doubt he's going anywhere that's not shielded unless he leaves the planet. They have to know an attack from the Republic is likely."

Yoda nodded. "More reason to move quickly, that is."

Windu agreed. "Looks like we have an assault to mount," he said, forever businesslike and to-the-point. "Return with your troops to the rendezvous point within three hours. We'll be mobilized by then to launch our attack. I'll brief the Generals who will be leading the charge with the information you've sent." He clasped his hands behind his back.

"Understood," Sabé said, and the transmission cut. Pocketing the holodisc, she turned to her waiting troops.

"Back to the ship?" Three asked.

They'd landed a few miles away to be on the safe side, then hiked in through the difficult landscape. Which was why Sabé was already brushing past them to lead back up the jagged pass they'd come down. "Yes, and quickly. We need to make rendezvous in three hours."

"No time to waste then," Leo said, bringing up the rear.

That was the exact moment when a noisy skittering of small falling rocks alerted them to the fact that they were not alone. "What was that?!" Tater asked as they all physically startled, weapons either raising or being whipped out.

Backing up slowly to be more integrated into the clones, Sabé's quick eyes scanned the ridge above and then the sheer dropoff just a few steps to her right. Swearing internally with every foul word she knew, nervous fingers gripped into the metal of her blaster harder. She'd _known_ this felt too easy.

* * *

**Later**

On the bridge the flagship Venator-class stardestroyer _Negotiator_ , named for its commanding officer, General Kenobi initiated contact with the Outer Rim Command. Blue, ghostly holo projections winked into existence, showing Mace Windu, Supreme Chancellor Palpatine, and Master Yoda.

"Our ships are in position and we're ready to begin our campaign against the Geonosians," Obi-Wan began. At his side Ki-Adi-Mundi, Anakin, and Ahsoka stood dutifully.

"Excellent," Windu replied. "We've transmitted the intel over to your bay and you should have it now."

Obi-Wan confirmed receipt and pulled up the three dimensional grid display of the foundries, shielded by an enormous, mile-wide ray shield. He studied it momentarily, decisiveness making his assessment quick.

"Is there any word on Poggle's location?" Anakin asked, also studying the graph thoroughly with a furrowed brow.

"Yes, our intelligence unit spotted him in the primary droid factory location in the upper quadrant," Windu replied.

"Excellent," Obi-Wan said, understanding that capturing the Archduke would be a very important piece of momentum that could potentially turn the tide of this war. "Anakin, Ki-Adi and I will attempt a three-pronged attack through these defense lines to a staging area just short of the shield," he said, indicating a narrow natural corridor made by rock formations. "Once we land, our priority will be to knock out the shield generator and move in to take Poggle. Without their commander, the droid army forces will be easier to take out."

"Isn't it risky to commit three generals to this attack?" Palpatine asked, his pale face drawn with concern. "If something went wrong, we could be dealt a serious blow."

Beside him, Yoda's flickering blue likeness turned slightly. "To ensure that rise again Geonosis does not, capture Poggle we must."

Palpatine nodded graciously. "Of course. As always, I shall leave the strategy to you, Master Jedi."

"One more thing, Generals," Windu said. "Be advised that our intelligence team has not returned to the rendezvous point and we haven't been able to make contact since shortly after they delivered the information."

"Require a rescue, they might," Yoda put in. "If still alive, they still are."

Obi-Wan nodded readily, eyes on the readout below. "We'll make sure to look into that," he said. "Who are they?"

"Four desert troopers," Windu said, which Obi-Wan received in stride, "And Agent Nebira." Eyes darting up and body physically reacting with dismay, Obi-Wan found himself frozen as Windu continued. "We've transferred over their last traced location."

It took him a second to reply, but to him, it felt like an eternity. "Thank you," Obi-Wan managed, suddenly thrown off and fielding a thousand different clamoring thoughts. Still, he had to outwardly retain his image of The Negotiator. "We will find out what's happened to them," he said.

"After the location has been secured," Windu said firmly.

Obi-Wan nodded once, wondering if his quickened breathing was noticeable. "Of course, Master."

"May the Force be with you," Yoda said, signaling the end of their conversation.

"And with you, my Masters," Obi-Wan returned, ending the communication and sinking into a troubled silence as around him, the other generals and commanding clones present began talking more in depth attack strategy as they clustered around the round display.

Knowing Sabé was down there and possibly wounded or worse was going to make this campaign more difficult than it already would be. Steeling himself and calling on the Force for steadfastness, Obi-Wan resisted the urge to rush to the rescue or let his personal feelings sabotage him. They still needed to draw up invasion plans for the other major settlements of Geonosis and debrief the brigades before they would mobilize. _Calm yourself, Kenobi._ A task that remained very difficult indeed.

* * *

The assault didn't go to plan. Anakin and Obi-Wan's gunships were both shot down, Obi-Wan's crash landing leaving most onboard dead. His subsequent injuries forced him to lay low on the battle field base square, leaving Commander Cody to direct the attack and shield their position. Ki-Adi, Anakin, Ahsoka, and Commander Rex were up against a brutal assault which Obi-Wan could only listen to across his comm with a sunken spirit.

_There's too many of them!_

_We've got no air cover!_

_They knew we were coming!_

Hearing the voices of the clones over their comm frequency was unbearable.

All Obi-Wan could advise Cody to do was to hold steady so that when Anakin and Mundi made it through, there would be someone waiting.

The thing of war was that it often times felt so enormous and unending—and that feeling rang true through the General in that moment as he sat on the dusty Geonosis ground against some supply crates for cover, a hand against his ribs uselessly. Unable to fight due to a leg injury and bruised ribs, plus what felt like a concussion, Obi-Wan felt absolutely helpless and anguished. Making that feeling worse was how it seemed as though this battle would not end in their favor.

He shut his eyes briefly, feeling how every breath in was like a stabbing pain in the middle of his torso. He tried to reach out with his senses and see if he could feel Sabé's lifeforce—he knew that they were just a few clicks away from her last known location. But either due to his wounds or the amount of chaos surrounding him, he couldn't sense anything. A sensation of hurt that wasn't physical squeezed him painfully. Every day that he woke up he understood the dangers and how he or anyone he knew might not be there tomorrow. But the thought of facing a galaxy without her in it caused him many confusing, deep feelings.

The last few months were a blur to him—after the rescue on Kijimi, there had been numerous other battles Obi-Wan had fought—and he came home to Coruscant weary each time, even when there had been victory. Dark feelings and dread kept growing the longer this war dragged on—something was not right in all this, and he had the feeling that some terrible crescendo was on its way. Seeing Sabé was one of the only bright spots in life, and as he thought about the possibility of no longer seeing her in the war room, of no longer catching her eye across the Temple hallways, of no longer sharing a quick cup of caf and (something stronger too sometimes) as they commiserated… he felt renewed despair. He felt allegiant to her in a way he didn't to many or any others, and instinctively wanted to protect her from all this—the war, the helplessness he felt, the weight of everything he knew she carried dutifully like he did too. Too much in this galaxy changed and faded away. Was it wrong to want one thing to stay mercifully the same?

He opened his eyes again to the orange world of Geonosis, praying that she was alive, and that he could muster the strength to survive this battle then go find her.

* * *

At the last possible moment, reinforcements arrived and both Mundi's forces and Anakin's reached Obi-Wan's. From there, Obi-Wan directed the shield-deactivation plan from his wounded position, frustrated that he couldn't lead the charge himself. But Anakin, growing into a masterful soldier, led the group to victory and the moment the ray shields went down, the tide of the assault turned in their favor. Not even twenty minutes later, the foundry was occupied by Republic forces, Anakin and Ahsoka were in pursuit of Poggle (who had escaped), and a clone transport arrived to take Obi-Wan back to the flagship. But despite his injuries, he directed the pilot to take himself, Cody, and a handful of troops to go recover the missing intelligence team. He wouldn't rest easy until he had laid eyes on Sabé.

The low altitude assault transport skimmed across the valley, which was now full of fallen clones and smoking, destroyed machinery—Republic and Separatist force alike. The transport headed for the furtherest steep rock wall that ascended into the sky steeply. The transport climbed the height easily, then hovered just beside a ledge to let Cody off first, who assisted Obi-Wan out.

"This is where their signal was last tracked," Obi-Wan confirmed as he and Cody looked around at the quiet, abandoned ledge that backed up into another tall sheer wall of rock.

"Wait, over there!" Cody said, lightly jogging toward a place in the cliffside where huge boulders piled up onto each other, appearing to have collected that way from a rockslide. Laserfire marks were scorched across the surrounding cliff face, evidence of some kind of trouble. "Looks like there was a collapse," he said, his helmeted head turning to look at Obi-Wan's slow, hobbling approach. "Sir?"

"I'm fine, Cody," Obi-Wan dismissed, more important things on his mind. He could indeed sense lifeforms behind the rocks, and he was both eager and deeply apprehensive to see who had survived this apparent collapse. His senses were muddled, and he couldn't pinpoint her Force signature, which only caused him more tightened emotions and physical adrenaline. He stretched a hand out that trembled slightly, pushing hard against the fear for what he might find. He closed his eyes and sought the power and might of the Force, relaxing into the certainty and purity he found there. Slowly, the huge rocks began to gently lift as if they were weightless, and Obi-Wan's eyes opened to see that the rocks had been blocking the mouth of a small, dead-ended cavern. He let the rocks drift off to the space behind them, then plummet to the ground at the bottom of the cliff.

Squinting as his eyes tried to adjust to the darkness of the cavern he'd just unearthed, Obi-Wan took a step forward, immediately searching frenetically for Sabé—and to his utter devastation, he did not see her. Instead he only saw four clones who slowly stood up from where they'd been either sitting or leaning weakly. His insides clenched anxiously as he took another step in. How could she not be here? Had she been killed earlier? Captured? The air was thick with dust, causing him to cough and wave a hand in front of his mouth and eyes. He _still_ didn't see her. Even as fear of the worst set in, the seemingly dazed clones approached slowly, one of them almost jogging toward him.

"Where is the agent who was leading this mission?" Obi-Wan asked urgently, even as he noticed that the trooper running up to him… was much shorter than he ought to be.

Even as confusion burgeoned, no doubt assisted by his head injury, gloved hands came up and the trooper took off their helmet. His heart leapt, clenched, and cried out in relief—the helmet removal revealed a sweep of frizzed brunette hair and a familiar, beloved face. "I'm right here," she said, overwhelmed emotion filling her face as he was rushed by staggering relief. " _Obi-Wan_ ," she whispered raggedly as she threw her arms around his neck and held on closely, the usual restraint she showed nowhere to be found. "We didn't think anyone would come." Relief and gratitude made him feel weak as his arms crushed around her hard—his ribs hurt, but he didn't care at all. She was safe, and he let out a painful breath he hadn't realized he was holding in, turning his head in towards hers and finding his nose in the side of her neck. He could smell blaster residue, the lingering scent of flowery hairwash, and the distinctive smell that was just hers. He could now sense how afraid she'd been and how hopeless she and the troopers had felt, buried alive with barely any air in this small space. He could now see, in the darkest furthest corner of the cavern, a body covered by a camouflaged cape. As the thick dust swirled around them still, Obi-Wan realized that Sabé had put on the armor of a deceased clone to be able to breathe in the dusty cavern. Compassion and empathy swelled.

 _Thank the Force you're all right,_ he thought, closing his eyes briefly as he let his rampant emotion display fully on his face and he didn't try to deny this moment—the war had found a way to erode at his more strict ways of thinking, and everything be damned—he needed to hold onto her and know she was here. When they pulled apart, their tense and poignant expressions mirroring each other's, they stayed close, hands grabbed onto each other's arms and brief smiles causing crinkle lines in the light dust that mutually veiled their faces.

"What _happened_ to you?" Sabé asked softly, her smile fading as she took in the scratches on his cheek and the way he stood with all his weight on one leg.

He shook his head, wondering how he could ever let go of her after that scare. "Transport was shot down," he said, not concerned with his own condition. "I'll be fine. I can take it."

A fond, emotionally-frayed smile tugged her lips upward and lit her eyes. "That's _twice_ now I owe you this year," she murmured, fixing some hair that had fallen into his eyes with a delicate, lingering sweep of her fingertips. He knew she was referencing Kijimi, and from the sound of it, she was rueful—probably suffering from wounded pride.

"You don't need to keep count, Milady," Obi-Wan teased, his energy more solemn and meaningful than usual though. "I'll gladly rescue you a thousand times if I must." He said it jokingly, but he certainly meant it—and the way her expression softened, it was clear that she knew his earnestness, too.

"Well where's _my_ hug, General?" Akland asked jokingly, reminding them both that they weren't alone.

Obi-Wan turned a bit, extracting himself and letting go of Sabé, remembering himself and their audience. "I can assure you, I'm happy to see you all alive and well," he said, looking over the survivors and refocusing himself. "Who didn't make it?"

"It was Three," Leo said. "We got ambushed. They pushed us back into the cavern, he got shot—then I guess all the laserfire trade caused the collapse."

Nodding as he took the information in, Obi-Wan knew there was still quite a bit to do here as far as tying up loose ends. "Well, let's get ourselves back to base, shall we?" he asked, sending his companion a thankful look that he couldn't help. He'd been so convinced for a few seconds that she was lost. "There's still work to be done here."

Sabé shook her head, giving him a knowing and weary but fond look. "Don't get _too_ ahead of yourself, General Kenobi." She pulled his arm over her shoulder, supporting him as they began to walk. "I think you need some looking after."

He didn't argue with her, only turned to look at her, the inner peace he had now been given by her safety making his expression soft. She said nothing else for the time being, just giving his arm a squeeze he could feel. He understood her meaning: she was just as glad to see him as he was to see her.

* * *

The war waged on, and Obi-Wan held on the only way he knew how: day by day. A couple of months after that second battle of Geonosis, Obi-Wan entered the war room in the Temple, expecting to see the usual. Agent Natta, Agent Nox, and of course, Sabé—the three RDI liaisons who conducted these sessions. He was hoping in fact to be able to catch a cup of caf with Sabé after the meeting to get her perspective on a few things and hear about the recent banking heists he knew she'd been involved in thwarting. So imagine his surprise when an agent he'd never seen before was there in her place.

The meeting was conducted without mentioning why Sabé was missing, and Obi-Wan spent the majority of the session fretting, especially so when he sent Sabé a quick text communication to ask where she was and if everything was all right and it went undelivered. That meant her comm was off, and that wasn't like her at _all_. He had the undeniable feeling that something was very wrong. By the time the debrief was over, Obi-Wan was thoroughly worried and admittedly agitated, despite his best efforts.

He waited as his Jedi peers filed out of the room, then approached Nox, a male Abednedo. "Pardon, Agent Nox," Obi-Wan attempted pleasantly. "Where is Agent Nebira?

"Leave of absence," Nox replied, distracted with sorting through his notes on the datapad he held. "There was a death in the family." He nodded brusquely and made to leave. "If you'll excuse me, General, I have quite the docket today."

Obi-Wan stared after Nox's departure with a slackened, thunderstruck expression that betrayed the horrified emotion he felt. He knew that a death in Sabé's family… could only mean one person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you recognized part of this chapter, it's because I used the Landing at Point Rain episode from the Clone Wars as template + added onto it. Sabé's clone trooper squad was named in honor of some of my readers (you know who you are!) - and Three is an inside joke reference to my husband. Yay!


	25. When Sunlight Fades

Long before the time of war, before the time of hardship, life had been beautiful. Easy, no, but beautiful, yes.

Two little girls ran across the thick carpet of grass atop the hill's crest, their laughter echoing after them as the smaller one tried to catch up to the bigger one. Set around them like a painting, the Ryrore valley and lake view stretched panoramically as far as the eye could see. The clear dusk sky and waning sunlight cast a golden light over the splendor of nature, causing the province to appear even more magical than usual.

A rugged and beautiful area of the planet, Naboo's highlands were comprised of verdant lake and oceanside land. Gently sprawling green hills ascended into mountainous areas with rocky slopes in the land's high points, then gave way to valleys and fields at lower altitudes where sparkling blue waters laid. In some places, miles of visually stunning sheer cliff faces plunged to meet ocean waters below—a unique sight that one would not be able to see anywhere else on Naboo but here.

The richness of the earth in Ryrore lended itself well to growing crops, and with all of the water access, the town was both known for its farming and fishing workers. Being a few hours from major cities, there was a slower and simpler approach to life here, and the two Nebira girls were enjoying one such instance of childhood freedom as they ran across the rambling hilltop their farmhouse was nestled on.

"Too faaaast!" Four-year-old Zana finally called, out of breath as she plopped down and gave up with a frustrated sound and pouted, crossing her arms and scowling. Her chubby cheeks were flushed and her hair, so carefully put up by Mama earlier that day into two little buns on top of her head, was now mussed, little loose pieces dancing against the pleasant breeze.

Her older sister rounded and put her hands onto her hips, smiling knowingly at her sister who did so hate to be left out or feel too slow. At ten, Sabé was wiry and tall for her age, fearless and robust, never meeting a rock she couldn't climb or an adventure she didn't want to go on. The knees of her playsuit were dirty and grass stained, and her braid, while immaculately weaved thanks to Mama, was a mess of frizz. "You be-tter not smi-le," she coaxed her grumpy sister in a sing-song voice. She giggled when Zana immediately scowled even harder against a growing smile, resulting in an absurd, silly expression. Sabé then assumed a stance that told her younger sister a tickle attack was coming, then began to dramatically creep up, eliciting a shriek as Zana jumped up and ran away screaming with anticipating, raucous laughter.

Catching up to Zana thanks to how short her little legs were, Sabé tackled her in mindful gentleness to the ground with tickles, showing no mercy until they were both hiccuping and hysterical from laughing so hard. Then they collapsed onto their backs, catching their breath as wind rippled the long grass around them like waves on the water of the lake. Putting an arm around the little sister who Mama always said had been 'the surprise baby we never knew this family needed,' Sabé kissed the side of Zana's fidgety head and nuzzled, gaining another chortle from her. Ever since she heard Zana would be born, Sabé had known exactly the kind of sister she wanted to be. The kind who would protect, defend, love, to the ends of the galaxy forever and ever.

Just then, their mother's voice sounded from the nearby house. "Girls! Come inside, Papa's home!"

Jumping up in tandem at the thought of seeing their father again after one of his two day fishing trips, the girls were already on their way. "Race you!" Sabé called, but she ran slowly on purpose so that Zana could catch up and feel like she won—because the grin on that little face when she had triumphed always made Sabé feel so, so happy.

* * *

**Present Day  
** **Ryrore, Naboo**

"What we do in this life echoes into all eternity, living on past us forever once we are gone from this place."

The chaplain's solemn words carried across Ryrore's Langisjor peninsula underneath a somber blanket of foggy gray conditions. Chilly wind whipped at the handful of black-clad people who gathered at the small town graveyard. Near the edge of one of the great cliffs, the old fashioned headstones dotting green grass were hewn from gray rock, bearing engravings for those who had been lost.

"As we gather here today, still reeling from the tragic death of our friend, tireless hero, and beloved sister Zana, we are shocked, grieved, and angered at the unfairness and senselessness that took her from us. We seek to make sense of this, to understand the reason why this happened."

As the chaplain continued, Sabé's ears rang and eyes refused to see clearly for the tears she was so desperately trying to hold back—she didn't cry in front of others, but today might see an end to that policy. Standing grimly around the newest headstone with her were Padmé Amidala, Gregar Typho, and three of Zana's closest friends. On either side of Sabé's slumped form, Gregar and Padmé stood close in support—Padmé keeping a hand on her friend's back as they all struggled with their weighty sorrow.

"It is true that there is much sadness here today, but Zana's spirit and impact will live on in all of you, enriching, guiding and blessing your lives."

The words droned on, and Sabé couldn't listen. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't form a coherent thought. There was only huge, gaping, body-weakening grief. She was destroyed. Forever.

Forty-eight hours ago, everything had come apart completely in her life when the news came that her sister—helpful, brave, forever dreaming of peace, too good for this cruel world—had died in a cowardly Separatist attack on medical transports out in open space. And Sabé had felt every emotion riddle her body like laserbolts since then. Murderous rage, bone-crushing loneliness and despair, anguish so unbearable she couldn't take a breath or see straight. The most predominant feeling of all though? Confusion. Heartbreaking confusion. She couldn't understand, couldn't comprehend that her sister was just gone in the blink of an eye. No body left, no final goodbye. Just _gone,_ a small box of personal belongings the only thing that remained of an entire life.

_I was supposed to always protect you. You weren't supposed to be the one who risked yourself like that._

Shattered all over again, Sabé struggled to breathe smoothly as her throat and chest convulsed in pain and her entire body throbbed with rejection of this reality. _I just want to wake up and have everything normal again. This is an absolute nightmare. I don't know how to live my life anymore. I'm completely alone now._

At that moment Sabé felt a slight nudge, and Padmé's stark, pained eyes went into the distance to Sabé's left. "Look," was all she whispered, and Sabé couldn't imagine what the _kriff_ would be so important to interrupt her sister's eulogy. She angrily looked to see what the hell it was.

Then her heart dropped and face went slack. With a small fighter ship behind him, the newcomer approached them at a steady stride with his brown robes fluttering around him and a pained expression on her face. The sight nearly broke her. _Obi-Wan_.

Suddenly almost hyperventilating with rapid and shallow disbelieving breaths, Sabé moved in a trance—drifting out from between Padmé and Gregar, then the second Obi-Wan's step quickened to carry him to her faster, she lost it completely and crumpled, not even feeling herself move but moving nonetheless, crashing into his arms and clinging on hard as she wept. The eulogy behind her paused, waiting for a long moment as Sabé remained exactly where she was, both strengthened and weakened by his presence. He felt warm and solid and strong, and she was terrified to lose him too suddenly. She had questions flying through her ragged mind: how he knew what happened, how he had managed to find them, why he wasn't on the front lines—but she asked none. He was here. He was here and although it didn't change reality… she felt suddenly more able to face this with him by her side.

When they finally drew apart, her face was streaked with tears, and he was bereaved, regarding her with heavy eyes. "I'm so sorry, Sabé," he said, that familiar voice just loud enough to hear above the crashing waves below the cliff they stood on. She could only nod wordlessly, then let him accompany her back to the waiting mourners. Typho and Padmé looked especially taken aback by the intensity of the embrace they'd just seen. But neither said anything, and neither would ask questions about it later either.

* * *

The rest of the service lasted until the light of day waned, with everyone sharing bittersweet memories and fond remembrances before Sabé cast flower petals into the wind to scatter over the ocean waters below—a Nubian tradition. _From water to water, from life to death and death to live. All ends where it began. All begins to end. May the peace prosper upon all that have gone before and all who are to come. So we plead._

When Obi-Wan first arrived, Sabé's emotions had been raw and agonized, but as he stayed at her side, he could sense her growing a little calmer. However, when everything was concluded, she was visibly exhausted to the point of barely being able to speak or function.

After exchanging a few solemn words with Typho and Padmé, Obi-Wan offered to see Sabé back to wherever she was staying and she agreed with a briefly pensive expression. He'd left his ship where it was for the time being and accompanied her in a small speeder that they took back up the peninsula and onward over sandy roadways to a sprawling plot of farmland that covered some lower plains and what looked like a hilltop with a beautiful view of the lake and the valley. It was so dim by the time they arrived that Obi-Wan had trouble seeing the surrounding settings. Not that he was that focused on taking in the sights. While little was said, it was obvious that Sabé had rushed to Naboo and hadn't even changed out of her black flightsuit that she had on underneath the black cape that she currently hid herself in.

A modest home with bone-beige walls, a neatly kept front garden area, and a thatched rust-red rooftop stood waiting with lights on at the hilltop where Sabé stopped the speeder. She hauled a small travel bag out, which Obi-Wan gently took from her. She gave no protests, just a small thankful if somewhat guilty expression before leading the way toward the house.

As they approached, Obi-Wan looked to his silent and bereft companion. "What is this place?" he asked, although he already had a hunch.

She stopped, looking over the house with heavy, bittersweet eyes that saw much more than the physical structure in front of them. "Home." She was distinctly apprehensive. "I… haven't been back in awhile."

Obi-Wan remembered her mentioning in a conversation once that the family farm had been passed down and was in her name, but since it was so remote, had never been an ideal home for her and Zana's more fast paced life. She'd leased it out to travelers over the years, if he recalled correctly. But who kept the place up, he wondered? Even as they walked up to the front door, it whooshed open to reveal a familiar, metallic face. "Ah, Commander!"

"I told you not to call me that anymore, DC-10," Sabé said, her energy low as she went in past the droid.

Wondering a little about how the protocol droid had ended up here—if they had been a family droid all along—Obi-Wan followed Sabé in as DC-10 shut the door panel behind them and tagged along after them, joints whirring. "Forgive me, lady Sabé. Old habits die hard, to borrow the saying. And Master Obi-Wan Kenobi! Imagine seeing you again after all these years!"

"It's nice to see you too, DC-10," Obi-Wan said politely, looking around at the clean, simply furnished, and functional home. Tile flooring and sandstone-colored walls offset exposed beam ceilings and thoughtful little pieces of art. Large windows throughout probably offered quite the view in the daytime. Sabé tossed her cloak away toward a couch in the central lounge, and DC-10 promptly grabbed it up.

"No one alerted me to your arrival, lady Sabé, shall I order a market share? I'm afraid the pantries are empty." Sabé only glanced at the droid with hollow eyes, biting her thumbnail cagily, other things clearly on her mind. "Will lady Zana be joining you? I can set her room if—"

Sabé went still and gaunt at the question, and Obi-Wan immediately took away the burden of explaining from her, gently touching the droid's shoulder to turn them to face him instead. "DC-10," he said incredibly quietly. "Zana has… passed away."

If it were possible for a droid to look astonished… DC-10 did. "Oh my."

"I just need you to shut down for the night, please," Sabé said in a choked voice.

DC-10 nodded their head immediately, "Of course," then shut down right there in the middle of the living room.

Sabé put her face into her hands briefly. A brief silence ensued, and Obi-Wan studied his friend sadly when her hands came away. Her every emotion was written plainly on her face, and her eyes were newly bloodshot. He saw agony, despair. Fear. Sadness. So much sadness. "How are you here, Obi-Wan?" she finally asked, barely able to speak, her eyebrows working hard in pained confusion. He supposed she had many questions, which he would gladly answer.

"I asked for a leave of absence," he replied honestly. The first time he had ever requested one. The Council had appeared surprised, but hadn't asked questions, merely coming to the mutual agreement that after nearly a year on the front lines, some time off was well deserved.

Sabé's expression cracked. She was touched and mildly guilty. "You didn't have to do that."

It was hard to see her like this, and he didn't know how to bridge the space between them. "I wanted to," he said meaningfully. And of course he had. This woman was important to him and he cared deeply about her wellbeing. He'd cared very much about Zana too, who had always struck him as a good-hearted and kind person. He was deeply saddened about her death. Sabé remained wretched and silent, visibly swallowing down grief. Then with jarring suddenness, she walked past him and went into a small room off the lounge, leaving Obi-Wan to feel taken aback then follow after with uncertainty. She'd gone into what looked like a bedroom. The lights were off in there and she leaned heavily at the wall beside a small bed, two hands supporting herself as she shook and breathed hard, trying to hold herself together.

Obi-Wan hovered at the doorway, wanting to go to her but also not sure if she was trying to get solitude. He'd seen many people struggle with loss before, but this was not like any instance he had experienced. It was shockingly painful to be near her and feel so powerless to help. "Do… you need to be alone?" he asked quietly, wishing he knew what to do.

Her head turned and eyes whipped up immediately to his, overwhelming emotion in them. "No, I need you to stay," she whispered weakly, words that shot straight to his heart. Obi-Wan nodded, then crossed the distance between them and silently took her in his arms again. She cried openly into his shoulder for a long moment as they stood beside the bed, and it was one of the most heartwrenching things he'd ever heard. All he could do was hold her, and hold a comforting hand at the back of her head.

After awhile she sank down to sit on the edge of the bed and wiped at her eyes, staring blankly as he gingerly sat beside her.

"She was my _world_ , Obi-Wan," she whispered barrenly. "And I did a terrible job of showing it." In the darkness, her teary cheeks reflected the low lights coming in from the lounge. "I've lost everyone now… it's just me left," she said, voice pale with dread. "I feel like I'll never be okay ever again." He wanted to urge her to take heart, to tell her she hadn't lost everyone—but even as he tried to think of a way to say it, she revealed that she was ahead of him. "Please don't say anything. I… I just need someone close right now." He knew her to be a strong, decisive, sometimes even ruthless woman. Seeing her like this was disconcerting. But a reminder that despite whatever proverbial armor she wore, she was gentle and sensitive underneath, the owner of a huge heart. She leaned into him and he held her again there for a long time as she shivered and sniffed.

Being so close to her should have felt wrong and dangerous. But it only felt fitting. He hadn't even _considered_ not coming to her immediately when he found out what happened on Coruscant. Their relationship was to the point now that he couldn't imagine responding in another way. So for right now, in this moment, Obi-Wan let go of what the Council would say if they saw him here so closely holding the woman he had feelings for. He let go of everything but breathing in and out and being here with her. The rest would have to wait.

After some time, she stilled and began to relax, drifting off to sleep in his arms… something that stirred great and tender feelings inside. Obi-Wan gently laid her down across the bed, intending to draw the blankets over her and go into the lounge. But her eyes opened sleepily and a hand clenched into his tunic, insisting he not move. "Don't go," she begged softly, two words he couldn't stand against.

So he didn't.

Both in their boots above the covers, they laid facing each other, his arms around her as she nestled warm and close, that one hand remaining sweetly clenched into his tunic. When she slept more deeply, he pulled his robe across them like a blanket, and listened to the soft sounds of her sleeping breaths deep into the night. Moonlight rose and as she shifted, he could see the details of her beautiful face lit silver. He traced errant hairs away from her cheeks as he reflected on how the point of no return had already transpired for him long ago, at some indefinable place in time he couldn't identify. For so long now, it had remained inevitable and undeniable, and he couldn't keep lying to himself anymore. He loved her—and it was as simple and as difficult as that.


	26. Glimpses

Sabé first heard the sound of birds calling against a backdrop of… nothing else. So used to the city of Coruscant's incessant noise or the dull hum of whatever ship she slept in while traveling, the simple sound of birds cheerful calls seemed alien. Slowly, she eased into wakefulness, opening her sore eyes to a sunlit bedroom. In front of her, a blank wall lit by morning light streaming in. Last night came rushing back and whatever momentary emotional neutrality was gone. Zana. Obi-Wan. Just as she was thinking with a sinking sensation he had gotten up once she fell asleep, she realized there was a solid warmth pressed up against her, and something resting over her side, too. As her senses continued to sharpen, she could hear and feel his soft, sleeping breaths. Careful and slow, Sabé turned, finding Obi-Wan exactly where he'd been last night. She had shifted during the night and turned over, nestling her back into his front and pulling his arm around her. His robe was over them like a blanket.

But none of that captured her attention like seeing his sleeping face so close to hers, resting on the same pillow her head was on too. His gingerbrown hair fell across his forehead, and copper eyelashes fanned out against faintly freckled skin. The peacefulness of his expression and breathing was a spell to her, and she felt disbelief, confusion, but most of all… a small but powerful instance of badly needed happiness. Afraid to ruin the moment, Sabé didn't move again, taking the comfort that his nearness offered as she processed, finally, his appearance yesterday.

She'd barely been able to think that day, barely able to speak or breathe. Everything she'd done had felt like an out-of-body experience. She remembered feeling this way when Mama and Papa died, too. But at that time, she'd had a job to do and someone to stay strong for: Zana. Now that Zana was gone… who was left to be brave for? It was now just Sabé. The last of her family, the only one left. And although she was no stranger to grief and hardships… it all felt like too big a burden to manage or comprehend. A final crushing blow mixed in with so much paranoia and fear surrounding the galaxy, the war, corruption, conspiracy. It was enough to defeat her and make her contemplate ending it all so she didn't have to suffer anymore. Did Obi-Wan know how much strength he had given her just by being there? Just by staying close? Her heart ached, with sorrow and love alike.

She tried not to let herself hope that something would change today—that he would finally take her in his arms and tell her his feelings, finally tell her he couldn't go on any longer pretending that things were entirely platonic between them. She _tried_ not to hope, but she still very much helplessly did in her more emotionally frail state. She had agreed with herself years ago that things between them would never progress. That a stolen kiss after escaping Cilpar would be the end of it. But it hadn't been, and the past near year of war, they'd only grown closer, the spark and tension between them ever-increasing.

Obi-Wan stirred after some time, breathing in a little deeper and sighing softly as he began to open his eyes. Sabé's dreamy state faded and she guarded herself. She had errantly dreamed of this type of moment with him on and off over the years, wondering what it might be like to wake up together. And here it was. Just not _quite_ under the circumstances fantasy had dictated.

When his skyblue eyes unfogged from the grogginess of slumber, he looked into hers and there was a brief, tenderly studious pause. "Good morning," he presently said in a whispering voice hoarse from sleep.

It was hard to know what to say back. "Good morning," she echoed, heart beating a little faster than it had a minute ago. She resisted the urge to fix his hair.

"How are you?" he asked, eyes looking thoroughly into hers.

A very difficult question indeed. "Still here," she settled on after a moment, knowing difficult emotional landscapes were ahead for herself. She simultaneously wondered what the Council would say if they saw this. Did they know where Obi-Wan was? Sabé bit the inside of her lip softly, still mystified about his unexpected appearance. "How did you find me? How did you know where I'd be?"

His expression remained soft, elusive in a way. "A mixture of deduction and luck."

Despite it all, the softest confused smile momentarily displayed on her face. "I thought you didn't believe in luck."

Obi-Wan considered that with rueful self-awareness. "I suppose I made a concession."

Guilty for the smile on her face and brief contentedness she felt, Sabé grew self-loathing and turned, sliding out from underneath his robe, setting her feet onto the floor on the other side of the bed as she took in a deep breath and reality crashed over her again. None of it felt real. But she knew it was. How could she ever return to life as it had been before? How could the sun shine when the light in Sabé's life had gone out?

And then a gentle, kind question came which only broke her heart further. "What can I do for you today?"

Sabé's face contorted hard, safely hidden from his sight since her back was turned, and she shook her head. "Obi-Wan—no—I don't feel right letting you… help me." She stood up, aware of how weak her body felt. When was the last time she'd eaten? Obi-Wan looked at her with concern from where he'd propped himself up onto his side. "I feel guilty that you're even here," she admitted, embarrassed to say it but feeling like she'd appear entitled if she didn't say so.

" _Guilty_?" he asked in faintly hurt bewilderment. He moved, tossing his robe aside and standing, coming nearer to her but not _too_ close—perhaps sensitive to how troubled she was. When she said nothing else and remained visibly forlorn, he chanced coming a bit closer. "Sabé, you have become… one of the most important people in my life," he said carefully, his earnestness reigned in, or perhaps his words watered down. "I don't have family, and I don't keep many close friends. You and Anakin are… are very special to me." The implication was clear: he wanted to be here for her because of that. His voice dropped a bit in volume and lost some strength, revealing sorrow that echoed hers. "I loved Zana too."

Hearing _that_ sent Sabé over a sudden emotional edge and her face crumpled. And again, she found herself in a strong, lingering hug, unsure if she'd been the one who initiated it or if he had. She wasn't one to show her emotions or cling to something or someone for support—her preference was to remain a lone wolf, to shut others out and work through things on her own. But today and yesterday, Obi-Wan's presence brought out everything she was trying to suppress, and she resisted her pride, instead resting in the peace and strength he gave to her. Letting it all tumble out completely.

* * *

Morning stretched into afternoon, and by the time local time was an hour past noon, Obi-Wan was returning from going into town with DC-10 for supplies. The droid apparently worked as housekeeper over the Nebira farmstead these days, keeping everything up to snuff since Sabé leased it out to vacationers and travelers throughout the year. DC-10 said the land and farm had been in the family for generations, but this was the first generation the farm portion hadn't been operational anymore. The droid said that when Dolff and Lona Nebira had died, all the crop fields and gardens had died too. All the fishing and egg hatching had stopped. Sabé had been forced to relocate and enlist in the Naboo Security Forces to provide, and the farm had grown over for a few years until Sabé had gained enough personal stability to turn it into a source of passive income.

Ryrore was a pleasant and small town, little cottages and farmhouses dotting the rolling hills and upper slopes to overlook the lake. DC-10 took them to a local outdoor market by the water's edge that was bursting with ripe fruits, vegetables, fresh breads, baked goods, jams, jellies, pastries, and more. A fish market was nearby too. The locals were friendly and welcoming, and Obi-Wan bought enough food for a few days. He paused at a flower stand at the very end of the excursion, considering the colorful wildflower bouquets.

When he came back into the house, he found it empty and left DC-10 to unpack everything and set the flowers he'd decided to get into a vase. In the daylight, Obi-Wan could see a lot more of the farmstead: the greenhouse to one side of the property, old crop fields along the plains that graduated from the hillside, fruit trees that still stood, and moisture vaporators too. The sight of the vaporatorsreminded him bittersweetly of their first adventure together. How unaware back then he'd been of how deep his feelings would eventually go…

He found Sabé out back of the house where the view of the lake and valley was most spectacular. She had cleaned up: her long hair was washed and dried and loose—he'd never seen it like that before. She wore a predictable jumpsuit—charcoal gray this time—as she sat on the grass with her arms looped around her knees. She gazed off into the distant pensively, and even though her face didn't show it, Obi-Wan could sense the vast ocean of grief below her surface.

She greeted him silently by looking up at him with a small, tight smile. She seemed to be doing a little better, shouldering her feelings instead of feeling crushed flat by them. For the moment, Obi-Wan didn't say anything. Just sat with her and took in the scenery, understanding that in some instances, words did little but create weariness. Sometimes just being present was enough.

The lake, far below their elevation, spread out a sparkling blue against mountains, some which were close, others further away. As far as the eye could see, natural beauty: the most beautiful green grasses and mosses that Obi-Wan had perhaps ever seen, rugged peaks and slopes and dipping terrain where solemn gray stone peeked through. A few birds flew across the bay of the lake, dark silhouettes against cobalt blue sky. Naboo's air was earthy and fragrant, the breezes bringing an exhilarating but calming feeling all at once. This was the kind of place that could stir a soul to remember, feel, and be more alive. Obi-Wan could almost forget the war completely being here, lost in the tranquility and serenity of nature.

"It's almost like the war doesn't even exist to be out here like this," Sabé ventured quietly, drawing an interested, kindred glance from Obi-Wan.

"I was just thinking the same thing."

Her taut profile remained in place, her eyes on the lake however seeing nothing. "But it does. And it's the war that killed her." She swallowed and her eyes drifted down then she turned to look at him with open vulnerability. "I don't know if I can go back." She didn't look like she knew how to take her own feelings. "But I can't stay here either." Obi-Wan said nothing, knowing that it was more important to listen than anything else. "I can't even be in the house alone right now," Sabé continued, her voice choked and explicitly pained. "It's too empty. And I remember too much."

She went silent, and after a moment, Obi-Wan gently ventured a question. "Can I offer some advice?" Her stark eyes met his and she gave a barely perceptible nod. "No decisions right now," he counseled. "Trust that there is healing ahead." Sabé looked doubtful, or perhaps defeated at the prospect. "Would you like to meditate with me?" Obi-Wan asked after a moment. It was a practice that without fail calmed and cleared him, giving him peace he so often and so desperately needed.

She considered, keen interest and fascination ghosting across her face, reminding him of the Sabé he knew when she was at her best. "Show me how."

And so he did. He sat with his legs folded, turning to face her and she mimicked him. They were close enough that their knees just barely touched. He then offered her a hand, which she seemed confused at, but at his silent encouraging nod, she took it—and the forever-constant feeling of connection and life that had always been there at physical touch between them sprung up. Obi-Wan let their held hands rest across one of their knees. "Close your eyes," he entreated, and so began the lesson. Connected more closely by the touch of their hands, the moment began to exist on a level of consciousness outside of the physical world. Everything faded out as Obi-Wan led them deep into themselves and showed her the way. First, the breathing: he guided her in slowing it down and putting all focus into the simple act of inhaling—exhaling. Then he took her through a slow relaxation of every muscle that didn't need to be tensed, breaths still intentional and measured and deep. Once they reached a place of steadiness and rhythm, he could sense her feelings beginning to rise up, threatening to cascade down on her like an avalanche.

 _Now let it all go,_ he said without words.

 _How?_ came the willing but uneasy question.

 _Breathe. Focus on the feeling of release… of opening yourself so everything that does not serve you can drift away._ He felt her holding onto the weight, and gently stood with her in that feeling, coaxing her to release what was not needed with every breath out. Slowly, the tenseness she clung to faded, and her spirit relaxed, letting dark things evaporate into the ether. _Now, you're open to receive the good._

Their eyes opened at the same moment and their hands remained holding. The physical world was always momentarily startling after deep meditation, and the brightness of the sun, the crispness of the scenery around them caused them both to squint and blink. Obi-Wan could see after a moment that Sabé looked brighter, fresher—tired like she'd been in a battle, but relieved too. Meditation could never grieve a loved one for someone, but it could certainly help navigate the pain. Obi-Wan knew from experience.

DC-10 appeared then, their voice distinctly bordering on annoyed. "Excuse me, but you've been out here for an hour now, didn't you say you wanted to have a meal, Master Obi-Wan?"

Sabé looked at Obi-Wan in surprise and he had to smile—he had felt the same the first time he'd accomplished a deep meditation. Time had a tendency to fly by.

* * *

They went inside where DC-10 had thoughtfully prepared a lunch, and Sabé was surprised and touched to see the flowers Obi-Wan had picked. While they didn't speak much, it wasn't a tense type of quiet that accompanied the eating. After the meal, Sabé grabbed a cloak and two walking staffs and told Obi-Wan to come along. He did. They hiked down the length of farmland in mutually thoughtful and comfortable silence most of the way, going along the edge of land down toward the lake, then up again until they were in a steep, suddenly mountainous place with a trail that zig-zagged up a small mountain to ascend the highest peak. The weather shifted surprisingly quickly as they spent the better part of two hours on the way there: gray clouds rolling in and casting a softness over the entire valley as the promise of rain loomed.

A plateau of mossy green grass waited for them when they had reached the small mountaintop, and this high up, the air was colder and misty. Sabé seemed familiar with the place, and Obi-Wan could only imagine she had been here before. She led him toward the plateau's end, a wide grassy shelf. The view was even more incredible here than from the farmstead—which could be seen surprisingly far off now in the distance below. Increased wind at this elevation pulled Sabé's hair in every direction, resulting in making her look more fiercely beautiful than usual as she gripped her staff with elegant fingers. "I wanted you to see this," she said after a moment, expression both tense from her underlying emotions and soft from appreciation. Her cheeks were red from the chill and the exertion.

"It's breathtaking," Obi-Wan admitted, his eyes leaving her to scan the vista again.

After a moment, Sabé began to reflect in a voice full of nostalgia. "The four of us used to hike up here in the summer and have picnics. Fly kites. Watch the clouds go by. I liked to give my mother heart problems from how close I wandered to the edge." A smile that was tainted by sadness and loss stretched across her face. "Those were good times," she said, lost in memories that were no doubt wonderful, but hurtful to recall. He could imagine it easily, and while he'd never had a family like she had and didn't know quite the feeling of loss like she did, remembering Qui-Gon's death here on this very planet stirred understanding in him. And just like that, Obi-Wan was lost in memories of his own: this woman on the day he'd met her, and the suspiciously curious, relentless glances he kept catching her giving him. The mask of paint that hid her face, the moment he'd seen her without the makeup. The unexpected friendship and connection they'd discovered. All eventually leading to this moment here, being with her of his own personal choice during what was one of the hardest moments of her life. Not something he could have predicted all those years ago when he'd imagined himself to be a flawless Jedi who would never break a rule or even consider bending one. Things had changed. _He_ had changed. "What?" Sabé asked, seeing the look in his eyes.

"I'm… thinking of when we first met," he answered truthfully, not doing the best job of hiding the despondent fondness he felt for her in his eyes.

Immediate understanding and similarity mirrored his and Sabé visibly made herself look away. "We've both changed a lot since then, haven't we."

They hadn't spoken about last night, nor did he think they would. It was best not to address it, lest things grow even more complicated. "Yes and no."

Another strong gust of wind whipped his robe and her cape around them noisily, and sent Sabé's hair on a wild brief tangle across her face before it settled back down. "Don't you ever just want to run away from everything, Obi-Wan?" she asked after a moment, voice barely audible. She didn't look at him. And he wondered if she meant run away together.

His answer, in either case, was the same. "There are brief moments, I'll admit." He looked out over the landscape again, re-gripping his staff a few times in a fidgety way. "Especially during this conflict tearing the galaxy apart." He looked back at her empathetically. "I think given the circumstances, it's understandable to feel the way you do."

She met his gaze again, a look on her face he would never forget. "No matter what happens," she said, her voice and eyes spellbinding. "With the galaxy. With us." The word 'us' struck him as particularly conflicted. "You've been light in the darkness. And I'll never forget that," she said, then grew bereaved and downcast. "I wish I could repay you."

"Repay me?" Obi-Wan echoed, beginning to understand just how far down her guilt about him being here went. He squared himself to her, which made her cast a few nervous glances at him before she fully let herself meet his gaze. "Have you forgotten the way you were there for me when Qui-Gon died?" he asked gently, letting his eyes be as sincere as he felt. "I certainly never have. It meant more than you or anyone else knows." She'd been the first person he saw after Qui-Gon died in his arms. And the memory of her holding him as despair swallowed him whole was something he would always carry until his dying day. "If anything, _I_ am repaying _you,_ " he reasoned with utmost care, wishing she could see it the way he did. She only looked more and more close to crying, and it took everything he had not to reach out and touch her face. "Don't discredit yourself, Sabé," he almost begged. "You have done your part and more for others. Give yourself the same kindness you've shown others."

With a brow creasing in pain and a struggle to maintain composure, all she did was breathe in and out shakily, looking off into the distance again. "It just hurts so much," she managed, Zana clearly on her mind. "And it always will." She held herself stiff, as if it were her against the galaxy. "All I can do is keep going."

Obi-Wan, given over to his weaknesses out of compassion and love alike, put a sidelong arm around her and when she wordlessly put her head to his shoulder and shut her eyes tight against emotion, he resisted the urge to put a kiss on her forehead. He only let his head lean against hers, resonating with her feelings and ignoring the voices whispering at him that he was playing with fire. This war had caused him to view some things differently, to make allowances. It had challenged long-held belief systems. He had barely admitted it even to himself yet, but he was beginning to wonder if the Code were entirely right about things like attachments, feelings, and love. Thoughts that were terrifying… but inescapable.

* * *

Sabé and Obi-Wan returned to the homestead and there they respectively and appropriately parted ways after a small dinner of stew that DC-10 made. Sabé would spend the night sleeping fitfully and waking up repeatedly to an empty bed. And while she understood… she simultaneously didn't.

The next day she would wake up and make breakfast slowly and thoroughly, the act of toasting bread, spreading preserves, cutting fruit, and brewing caf all feeling intensely therapeutic. Obi-Wan watched her offhandedly as he read news on a datapad, and Sabé would sadly reflect that this was a halfhearted glimpse into a life she would never have with him.

They meditated again after that at his kind suggestion. Nothing continued to be said of sleeping together the night before or Obi-Wan's lingering, telling looks that kept coming throughout that day and the day before. Mid morning saw Sabé asking for some time to go through Zana's personal effects—an endeavor that anew reminded her of reality and caused her to weep uncontrollably for a few moments until numbness overtook.

Outside, Obi-Wan practiced Jedi forms—patterns of movement that accompanied weapon and self defense tactics. Sabé admittedly watched him from a window with a confused, hurting, hopeful heart as he elegantly practiced. Dreams and longings of a life together, or at least truth shared in how they felt about each other, grew more intense.

Afternoon came and they walked the property, with Sabé recounting a few childhood stories and narrating what the place used to be like, showing Obi-Wan the swing that she and Zana used to play in when they were small. Again, she would find herself emotionally overwhelmed and in the point of tears, and Obi-Wan wiped them away with a thumb, breaking her heart and healing it at the same time. Afterward, she took an incredibly long nap inspired by her grief, and she woke up as the sun was going down. Something had notably changed in the time between sleeping and waking. Her heart felt heavier, more shattered than before… and it was incapable or unwilling to participate in certain things anymore.

She rose and went into the lounge, finding Obi-Wan reading an old book from the family shelves with a small fire he'd presumably built crackling warmly in the fireplace, casting a pleasant orange glow across the otherwise dim room. He looked up, clearly glad to see her. "Ah, you're awake."

His welcoming airs only made it hurt worse. Still, she tried not to show it. "What are you reading?" she asked, still hovering at the doorway.

"History of the Elders," he said—Elders being the fabled and nearly mythical first settlers of Naboo. "Fascinating." It was then that he keyed into her mood and the book became forgotten. "What? What is it?" He saw her battling herself over what she was thinking and set the book down completely, standing up in concern.

She hadn't intended to broach the subject. But found herself doing exactly that with a stricken voice that matched her face. "I don't know how much longer I can keep doing this, Obi-Wan."

Words that caused the room to go silent. The utter surprise on his face set guilt into her. "Doing what?" he asked, something like dread showing.

" _This_ ," she said hoarsely—the death of her sister and the galaxy at war and her frayed emotions no longer allowing her to exist how she used to. "You and me. _Pretending_." And just like that, she knew she'd changed everything. She had no choice but to keep going. "All we do is go back and forth, tiptoeing around it. And the closer we get, the more it hurts." She swallowed hard, having a difficult time not breaking down at the look in his eyes. "I know where the line is. And I've committed myself to not cross it." Her voice softened as she dared to tell the truth. "But I—I still want to. All the time. And, you coming here, staying with me—is—has been one of the most meaningful things anyone's ever done in my life. But—the things you do and say. The way you look at me." Her voice wavered, giving away her feelings. "The way you _touch_ me." Her eyes begged his. "I torture myself, wondering if and when you'll make another concession." A reference to his comment yesterday morning. "Wondering if and when we can finally be honest with each other and ourselves."

"Sabé…" he began, heavy emotion in the single word.

She didn't let him finish. Not before she said all she had to say. "You told me where you stand years ago… and I understood then. I understand now. But we're _not_ just friends." She took an uneven breath, shaking her head rapid and shallow just briefly as her pleading gaze held his. "No one in this galaxy can convince me otherwise, least of all you." A charged silence stretched between them and Sabé felt her emotions rising to fill her eyes with hot, unfallen tears. "The way we deny the truth while simultaneously carrying on like this? I just can't find it inside of myself to do anymore. I thought I could, but—it's _killing_ me." And it was. Maybe it was everything she was going through at the moment, maybe it was inevitable after eleven years of buildup, but she felt like she might die if she let herself keep falling in love with a man who could never fully love her back. "I don't let people close like I have you," she whispered wretchedly. "And now I remember why."

She wasn't sure what she expected him to say. But it certainly wasn't what he did after a long, harrowed few beats. "If you need me to distance myself, I will."

More hurt grew. "Is that really all you have to say?" she asked, offended by his apparent callousness.

Obi-Wan was clearly put on the spot and his response was, in her eyes, weak. "You know I'm not allowed the same personal liberties as others are. That I've restricted myself from certain things in life."

Indignant fire rose, giving an edge of heat to her voice. "Yes I do. But I also know you came here of your own free will. I didn't even _tell_ you about Zana because I didn't want you to be in a position for a _second_ feeling like you were supposed to be here for me," she said, jaw trembling and eyes still hot with tears. "And yet _here you are_." An angry statement that immediately gave way to heartbroken appeals. "So if what you're saying is true, why have you and I only grown closer and closer? Why have you pulled me to you instead of pushing me away?" She went a little closer to him, her pulse hammering hard. "Why tell me that we're _only_ friends, then keep doing things that go against what you've said? Why are you even here at _all_ right now?" She was absolutely enraged and crestfallen at the same time at his silence. " _Why_ , Obi-Wan?" When he remained wordless and vexed, her defenses fell to the assault of absolute heartwrenched betrayal. Maybe she'd been wrong this whole time. In which case she didn't even know what to think. "Can you really just walk away that easily?!" she asked, a sob following the last word.

His eyes, so hesitant and guilty to meet hers until now, finally raised. "No." A single word that gave her devastating, stilling hope. "If I could have, I would have done so long ago," he admitted in a voice almost too low to hear. His eyes were barely meeting hers. The Jedi Master, a man who was not supposed to even be in a situation like this, shook his head long and slow, his jaw and eyes tense as he began to look errantly at the floor. "I suppose I've been a fool, thinking we could just carry on pretending things are not what they clearly are." A regretful, ashamed quality rested in his features. "What I want… the way I feel about you… is incompatible with the life I've committed myself to." Words that cut through her heart like a knife. "I think you already know I have a difficult time reconciling the Code with… what what I feel," he admitted in a voice that was becoming more and more broken. His eyes met hers again, filled with pain. "And I don't know what to do."

Miserable to the point of feeling physically ill, Sabé nodded, silently accepting. Obi-Wan would never disregard the Order for her. They both knew it. And he shouldn't have to, either. So all that was left to do was look out for her own emotions and move on. She had known, for the entirety of their relationship, who he was and where he stood. It was her own fault she'd gotten lost in wishing and wanting. "I'll step down from my liaison position," she said, then ruefully added on: "If I even go back at all."

Obi-Wan's face slackened. " _What_?" He stepped closer, his face twisted in what could only be called hurt. "You just accused me of walking away easily. And now you will?"

His words hurt so deeply and made her wonder if she was misstepping. Sabé held herself together just barely, meeting his gaze even though it was the hardest thing she'd ever done. "There won't be anything easy about it," she replied softly, not willing to let her defenses down. "But I don't see another way." Her jaw quivered as emotion coursed through her like a typhoon. "The past few days here with you… have been like a glimpse into that other lifetime you spoke of so long ago," she ventured, so hopeful and afraid she felt like she might snap in two. "…Do you remember saying that?"

His answer, so quietly and intensely given, was water in the desert to someone dying of thirst. "Yes."

She swallowed against the inconsolable lump in her throat. "Knowing it'll never happen… breaks me apart." A confession that made her feel absolutely useless and weak. "I'm so sorry. I wanted to be stronger than this. I thought I could be." She'd wanted to be able to weather the feelings she had for him and the reality that they could never be together. But somewhere along the way, things had become a mess.

He looked every bit as upset as she did. "You have nothing to apologize for, Sabé," he insisted, and his nobility and kindness was somehow even more painful to take than an angry or defensive remark. "Perhaps it's me who should apologize," he admitted momentarily, but Sabé didn't care. She didn't blame anyone. It was just the cruelness of the way things were. And at the end of the day, it was her own fault for loving an unavailable man.

"I just need to know," she said, chancing to drift forward a little more more, her heart demanding one final parting gift. "Do you think about it?" she asked, voice a bare whisper as she moved forward again, now close enough to touch him, to breathe the breath he expelled. "What happened between us after we left Cilpar?"

She needed to hear it from his lips. The silence screamed in her ears as his eyes searched hers. Then his answer, so soft and delivered in a wavering voice, took the air out of her lungs. "Yes. All the time."

Their dark gazes held, and she could see his breath was as uneven and ramped up as hers. His eyes swept over her entire face, intention and determination and conflict all there—

And then a sudden blaring beep—an easily recognizable emergency signal sound—cut through the air, startling them both, and Obi-Wan fumbled with his comm, which had been clipped to his side. Even as he read the display, Sabé knew she would never know how that moment would have ended. Frowning deeply, Obi-Wan looked up at Sabé with a tense expression. "It's Anakin," he said urgently, but not without a regretful color to his tone and expression. "He and Padmé are in trouble."

Despite everything—Sabé had always been and would always be someone who responded to those in distress. The war and everything going on in the Senate, RDI, whatever else were far off distant thoughts. But if Anakin and Padmé needed help… everything else would have to wait.

She nodded, stowing everything else, even though she knew it would eventually have to come up again. "Let's go."


	27. The Inevitable

Sabé and Obi-Wan left Naboo in record time, launching to space within ten minutes of Anakin's distress message. Neither of them brought up the very emotionally-intimate conversation they'd just had, but they were both certainly thinking of it between the grabbing everything they needed and then rushing to Obi-Wan's fighter. Once in space, despite the very cramped space in the two-person ship, Sabé tied her hair back into a tail and checked her blasters for readiness—because the assumption was that there would be some kind of conflict they were flying into. Anakin's message hadn't said _what_ was wrong… only to come quickly. The only thing that was really said in the thirty minutes it took to get where they were going was a gentle question from Obi-Wan—asking was she ready. She said yes, even if she didn't even know if that was true or not.

They followed Anakin's distress signal to an asteroid belt that was only one short jump from Naboo. There they found a very sizable mining operation, made apparent from the gray multi-structure sprawl of huge, temporary atmosphere fixtures on the jagged, dark surface of one particularly large asteroid. Obi-Wan made to land, and once they entered the ship staging area, which was protected by an atmosphere shield generator, it was clear that something was very wrong. The asteroid was unstable, rumbling as if it were a volcano with eruption imminent, and people—all very poor and dirty looking, all bearing faces filled with panic—were streaming out of the various connection ports that led into the gray mining hubs. All of them, and it seemed to be in the hundreds, were racing for a medium-sized Republic cruiser that was surrounded by a few smaller two-level shuttles that were meant to take people from asteroid to asteroid—nothing else.

"Is this an evacuation?" Sabé asked as they jumped out of Obi-Wan's ship, their boots crunching against loose, rocky surface. She'd had to raise her voice because of the panicked din coming from all the alarmed, noisy people who looked to be running away from… _something_. They looked around lucklessly for Anakin or Padmé, and exchanged a confused, somewhat alarmed look when they saw that no one seemed to be in charge here. That's when two lone clone troopers appeared from one of the structures and ran over—one of the clones was designated by yellow markings, the other by blue.

Obi-Wan hurried to meet them, Sabé right on his heels and wondering why two of the Republic's most prominent officer clone troopers were out here seemingly alone with no other troopers.

"Very relieved to see you, General!" said the one marked by yellow.

"Cody, Rex, what's going on here?" Obi-Wan demanded urgently even as a small teeming mass of refugees pressed past, jostling them slightly.

"Come with us, we don't have much time left," Commander Cody replied, equally as urgent. He led the way toward the empty base of operations structure, his brisk, hard to keep up with stride giving away how dire the situation was. Rex brought up the rear. "Senator Amidala and General Skywalker plus a few others are trapped down in Mine Five," he relayed as they entered the dark, tech-filled operations command through an entryway that clearly also functioned as an airlock. He kept going, leading them quickly down an empty hall where the lights flickered and the ominous rumbling seemed more pronounced. "A shaft collapsed as we were evacuating. Senator Padmé refused to come out until everyone else was evacuated when it happened and now they're stuck."

"Typical," Sabé commented dryly to herself.

Not breaking stride as the ground rumbled beneath them, Cody took a sharp turn down another hallway. "Where are your reinforcements?" Obi-Wan asked, having to raise in voice. "Where are the other troopers?"

"There are none," Cody replied. "We were only supposed to be here a few moments with Master Skywalker and lady Padmé to check on complaints from the workers about unfit conditions. _As you can see_ ," he shouted over the sound of a deep explosion, " _those complaints were valid!"_

The asteroid gave a huge accompanying shake and the group stopped briefly to brace and keep from falling, Sabé was caught by Obi-Wan around the waist as his free hand caught onto the wall for support. Cody missed the look that briefly passed between the two. The clone commander was pointing to the third door on the left at an end in the hallway, which was a metal braced, sealed entrypoint labeled "Mine Access 3" in blinking red letters. This was where the small group stopped to quickly convene.

"I've called Mid Rim command for assistance, but they won't be here for another hour at least—the entire asteroid is probably going to go up, the fuel has become extremely unstable!" Cody yelled over the noise, "So if we're going to get them out, we have _got_ to be quick!"

"We also need to get the cruiser offworld as soon as we can, there are about three hundred people evacuating to it right now," Rex added in with a shout of his own, "they can leave as soon as everyone's board, then there's some shuttles we can use to get ourselves off the surface once we have Amidala and Skywalker."

Quickly taking charge as he did so often on the battlefield, General Kenobi began to give directives to the two clones, remaining absolutely calm while still being incredibly focused and urgent. "Rex, you're with me. Cody, stay here with lady Sabé—I want both of you to make sure that cruiser with the mine workers gets off world with _everyone,_ no one left behind." Even as Rex and Cody gave affirmative _yes sirs,_ Obi-Wan's gaze met Sabé's eyes intensely, a certain look in his eyes. It was worry and regret and unwillingness to be parted, all while knowing that he had to go, and _now_.

Sabé wanted to argue with him immediately, because they both knew she could help in the mines and didn't _need_ to stay on the surface. But in situations like these, she would respect the command chain—and she sure as _hell_ wasn't going to waste valuable time arguing when people's lives were on the line. "Okay," she said in a strained voice, dreading the moment when she would have to watch him disappear into the dangerous places below them.

"If we're longer than ten minutes, _leave_ in one of those shuttles and get yourselves to safety," he told her, which she immediately had to bite her tongue at—because a protest of _I'm not leaving without you_ was ready to leap out of her mouth. But she only gave him a silent and dire look, which he answered with one of his own. They both knew this was dangerous, perhaps the last time they would see each other if things didn't go right. But there wasn't anymore time to waste or ruminate. Obi-Wan gave a tense nod then turned and went at a slight jog with Rex following.

Heart aching with fear, Sabé had to swallow it down and forcefully tear her gaze away from the man she loved. Personal feelings had to wait, even though they would leave her chest tense with emotion until she saw him again. "Let's go, trooper," she said, already darting back down the hallway at a light run as behind her, the clone gave a "yes ma'am" and followed closely.

Once back in the landing field, Sabé and Cody set to work with Cody overseeing people going up ramps and making sure the ship was piloted as Sabé ran from connection port to connection port and checked the adjacent sleeping quarters, food hall, and found of all things, a detention block—where one very scared looking teenage boy sobbed his relief when she found and freed him without asking why he was there. His name was Jol and volunteered the reason for why he was locked up as she escorted him (well, dragged him by the arm because the asteroid rumbles were getting more intense), telling her he'd been so hungry he had stolen food from the pantries even as he promised he wasn't a bad person. It was the least of her worries in that moment, although the shadiness of both his age and the food situation was something she put a mental bookmark in—Padmé would need to know about it. _If_ she re-appeared at all.

Even as Sabé practically flung the boy at the boarding ramp to get to safety, a familiar beeping friend appeared, accompanying Cody, who was disembarking. Artoo scooted down the ramp while giving a series of chattering beeps. "I think that's everyone," Cody said as they reached Sabé, "Anyone left will have to self-evacuate in one of these shuttles and wait for us to pick them up from there."

Sabé didn't get a chance to reply. Another explosion caused them to both fall over suddenly from the way the ground was momentarily snatched away from their feet. This situation was _not_ looking good, and it was clear that every second they remained here was a potential death sentence and huge risk. "Tell the pilot to go, _now_ ," Sabé said even as she pushed herself back up and began to go back toward the command center.

Halfway there, relief beyond comprehension suddenly surged as she saw Padmé and Anakin appear—he seemed woozy and he had a head injury, leaning heavily onto Padmé as he was held up by one other refugee who was with them. When no one else appeared… the relief faded into a feeling of _oh no_. Sabé ran to meet them, out of breath but not from exertion. "Where's Obi-Wan?" she demanded, looking frantically behind the small group where, still, no one else appeared. "And Rex?" Behind them, the republic cruiser was lifting safely into the air.

"Gone," Anakin mumbled, his face pained and eyes hazy. "Can't... sense him."

" _Gone_?" Sabé repeated, her heart shooting into her throat. "What do you mean, _gone_?!" She looked with frenzied eyes at Padmé for an answer. The Senator looked worse for the wear, her outfit ripped and hair destroyed, smudges of dirt all over her face and clothing.

"There was another collapse, the other refugees died, we got separated—" Padmé managed, and then it became clear that she was near the point of tears. "Sabé, even if he's still alive, there is no way to get to them quick enough, we have to get out of here now—every second we stay here is a deathwish."

Sabé felt like she'd been punched. "You left him down there?!" she asked in a voice that was airless and disbelieving, betrayed even.

"We didn't have a choice," Padmé said, eyes full of tears that begged to be believed.

Sabé was beside herself with a mind racing and heart full of keyed up pain. And immediately knowing what she needed to do, she set her face and jaw firmly. "All right. Cody prepped that shuttle over there takeoff. Get onboard, now."

Padmé nodded, conflicted expression showing how distraught she was. And that expression grew more distraught as Sabé brushed _past_ her, heading back toward the command center. "Where are you _going_?!" Padmé demanded with a fearful and disbelieving expression.

"I'm staying, and I'm finding Obi-Wan!" Sabé shouted back, her stride unbroken and her expression deadly as she marched toward whatever fate had in store for her.

"Sabé, you can't be serious, this whole place is about to—"

Sabé whipped around with all the anger and grief she felt. "He's _NOT DEAD_!" she roared, and Padmé seemed to step back a bit as Sabé heaved big breaths silently for a few impassioned seconds. At this point… she knew she was likely to die trying, but that didn't matter. "I am _not_ leaving without him!" she insisted with every bit of feeling she couldn't currently control.

And then Cody stepped forward to give Padmé a nod. "She won't be alone, ma'am," he said, then came to stand with Sabé, earning himself a touched, amazed look from Sabé. It was true what Obi-Wan had said about his Commanding clone. He _was_ incredibly loyal.

"All right," Padmé said, left with little choice and knowing the stubbornness of her friend, but still appearing to be heartbroken over it. "Artoo, see if you can help," she said, struggling under Anakin's sagging form as she turned to leave for the safety of the nearby shuttle. "Gods be with you, Sabé," she said.

Already on her way again to the command center, Sabé was jogging now, the impending collapse of the entire asteroid more apparent with every passing second. She skidded into the command station, catching a hand on the doorframe to turn quickly and race up to the mainframe area. Her eyes flew around, taking in a droid port, an interactive facility grid map, some air helmets, a full fledged control deck, and various other components she wasn't entirely familiar with. A plan was forming haphazardly in her mind, and while it didn't seem entirely foolproof… she didn't have many choices in the moment. Cody was right beside her, waiting for any command she would give.

"Artoo!" Sabé called, even as the astromech appeared in the doorway and hurried to roll her way. "I need to boost your life sign readings, plug into the mainframe and see if you can reroute," she said, and he immediately complied, extending a metal appendage outward.

At that moment, a tremendous explosion knocked Sabé and Cody down, and Artoo gave quite the disconcerting scream and trill of bleeps. Grimly, Cody helped Sabé to her feet even as Artoo made his approach and plugged in successfully this time. "I'd say odds are stacked against us, ma'am," Cody said gravely, earning himself a foul glance.

"Don't tell me the odds!" Sabé snapped, slamming into the command chair haphazardly and leaning close to study all the facility readouts, which were flickering as explosions continued. Her adrenaline was surging, leaving her in a place of only focusing on one objective: saving Obi-Wan.

A rather large, nearby explosion came then, followed by the blaring facility alarms and all doors and airlocks suddenly all shutting and sealing of their own accord. Cody and Sabé both looked with stunned expressions at their newest problem: out of the long, thin strip of window that overlooked the ship landing area, they could see that the atmosphere shield generator had been knocked into by one of the collapsing structures. It seemed like the entire asteroid was slowly falling apart internally, and all the unstable fuel operations below would soon be enough take the entire thing apart. Now, without the atmosphere bubble, they had even more problems: no breathable air on the surface—the same surface where the shuttles, their only safe way off of this place, waited.

Cody's assessment was quite accurate. "That's… not good."

Sabé looked at the disappearing atmosphere bubble and gave a supremely caged, irritated sound, following by a string of foul swear words before she returned to the console in front of herself with even more determination than before.

* * *

Deep within the rubble of the collapsed mine, Rex groaned and sat up from where the mine's collapse had briefly injured him to the point of blacking out. Looking around, Rex saw huge piles of stones around the collapse point and could see the General nearby too—unconscious, but alive and not too injured otherwise from what he could tell. He was pretty sure Anakin and Padmé had gotten out. Facility alarms were going, and the barely-functioning buzzing lights that provided visibility down here were rapidly dying out. Looking around, Rex was faced with a dire situation. There were _hundreds_ of tunnels and mines around him, and most passageways he could see were currently clear—but which one, if any, would lead them out? Trying his comlink, all he heard was static. So they were on their own then. He grunted, got up, then heaved and lifted Obi-Wan over a shoulder, carrying him like a sack. He didn't have much hope of guessing the right way out, but he would at least try, rather than sit down and wait to die.

* * *

"Look, look!" Sabé exclaimed excitedly as she pointed to the grid that was currently linked in with Artoo's life sign reading technology. "Two life signs! That's got to be them, Cody!" They were moving, just slowly. "It looks like they're just up from Shaft Five." She ran a finger up several potential pathways, quickly trying to comprehend the lay of the land. "If we can get them… _here_ ," she jabbed at the grid, "they'll be able to get topside and to the shuttles." It was one of the facility hubs, almost directly across from the command center.

"But the atmosphere shield is gone," Cody said hesitantly, surely thinking about the fact that while clone troopers helmets recycled an air system internally that would allow them to survive in an atmosphere devoid of oxygen, Obi-Wan and Sabé didn't have that advantage.

"That's why those air helmets will come in really handy," Sabé said, sending a pointed look over at a nearby area where a few neck-cinched air helmets were in a special emergency console.

Cody nodded, having missed that. "Good eye, lady Sabé." He pointed to his wrist and brought up the second problem. "My comm isn't working, how do we contact them to tell them the plan?"

That _did_ present a problem. Sabé looked around again, refusing to come up against a dead end. Then saw their lifeline. "The old fashioned way." She reached over and switched on the hardwired loudspeaker system, recognizing the older technology from an adventure Holo show she used to love as a child. "Rex, Obi-Wan, can you hear me?" she said, voice echoing into the command center and the entire facility too. "I repeat, Rex and Obi-Wan. Listen closely and move fast."

Sabé then gave out the directions three times, hoping to all she knew that the loudspeakers still worked in the vector they were in and that the men had heard. Thankfully, the grid monitor had live updates on which shafts were blocked, so Sabé and Cody waited and watched carefully as the little life signs moved slowly, following Sabé's directions. She had to redirect them once, as the explosions grew more intense. Once they were close enough to the surface that it seemed safe enough to move out (and also like if they didn't move out, they'd soon be in a collapsed facility), Sabé got up and snatched two air helmets up, securing hers on first with a snap-hiss. Artoo moaned nervously as the station gave another foreboding rumble and a few meters off another explosion sounded. Just before they all exited, Sabé swallowed and hoped this work, eyes on the structure across the way where Obi-Wan and Rex would in a minute or two hopefully appear. "You and Artoo get to the shuttle and be ready to take off the _second_ I get them onboard," she told Cody, and they gave each other a hopeful nod.

"Good luck, lady Sabé."

"You too."

Exiting the airlock, they went out, and with the extra helmet clutched tight for Obi-Wan, Sabé ran across the vast airfield as Cody and Artoo boarded the shuttle nearest to the facility Obi-Wan and Rex had been told to go to. Entering that facility through the airlock, Sabé resealed the door and tried to establish, in the flickering light, where Rex and Obi-Wan would be coming from. Even as she was trying to figure it out, they appeared from a hallway to her right, and the brief moment of absolute, soul-crunching relief Sabé felt was immediately quashed with concern—Rex was carrying a clearly unconscious Obi-Wan. His robe was nowhere to be seen.

"What happened?!" Sabé asked even as she ran up to meet him. Having seen the helmet, the clone was already putting it together and turning to give Sabé access.

"Got knocked out in the collapse," Rex explained even as Sabé shoved the helmet on and fitted it as quickly as her stumbling fingers could.

"We need to get out of here," Sabé said, even as the building they were in shuddered mightily, threatening to fall in over their heads. They made their exit at a full run. Even as they sprinted across the open air field toward the waiting, hovering shuttle, the ground began to crack apart under their feet, giving a treacherous last challenge to their escape. Having a trouble maintaining speed because of the ground shifting as it was, Sabé fell behind a few paces. Just short of reaching the shuttle, Sabé gave a shout of surprise and fear as underfoot, she felt a piece of asteroid fall away in a huge collapse, leaving nothing under her foot and throwing her balance off completely. She scrabbled for balance with swooping, wild arms as she looked behind herself and a surge of terror came as she saw that she was about to fall into a suddenly-revealed sinkhole that went hundreds of feet deep. Even as she felt herself falling backwards as if in slow motion… she felt her forearm caught by a strong hand and she was yanked away from the fall—and she found herself looking with stunned eyes at Obi-Wan—who had woken up just as Rex reached the ramp, seen Sabé lose her balance, and leapt the distance in a Force-assisted move. More explosions popped with an increased tempo, as if one had set off a series of many others… a lethal grand finale. Wordlessly, Obi-Wan and Sabé sprinted the final few steps without letting go of each other, falling to the floor of the ship in a breathless heap even as Rex sealed the ramp behind them. Artoo gave a scream of fright as the shuttle jerked and shuddered in a weak liftoff made difficult from the asteroid-wide explosions.

Briefly, despite it all, Sabé felt a disbelieving grin grow on her face. "You're all right?" she asked Obi-Wan, who looked quite dazed and certainly unsure of what was happening, but he nodded.

"Are you?" he asked. The shuttle's internal alarms began to blare as a huge impact that jolted the entire shuttle could be felt.

Sabé made a face. "Remains to be seen," she said and they helped each other stand, then rushed toward the cockpit entrance even as they tore off their helmets and tossed them aside. There they found Cody, who was struggling with the very rudimentary controls of the shuttle, which wasn't built for speed or finesse—only for getting workers from point A to point B.

"What's happened?" Obi-Wan asked.

"We stayed behind to rescue you," Cody managed intensely, "and looks like we got out of there just in time." Even as he said that, he let out a scream of _aah!_ as the asteroid's internal finale of explosions was building to a terrible crescendo, causing a sudden huge and deafening boom as the entire thing went up, bits of asteroid in various sizes flinging out into space in every direction. The shuttle was hit, _hard_ , so hard that it began to spin like a top while shooting at high velocity backwards, sending everyone crashing around like pebbles in a shaken jar for the briefest second, until Obi-Wan, using the Force, invisibly pressed everyone against whatever surface they were closest too and shouted, " _Hold on_!"

The shuttle alarms continued to scream for what felt like an eternity, and when the spinning de-escalated enough for Cody to slam himself back into the pilot's seat, he had more bad news. "We've been thrown into one of the nearby moon's gravitational pull—we have to land! It'll be rough! Brace yourselves!" Artoo gave a whoop of dismay.

So dizzy she felt like she might be sick, Sabé weakly grabbed for something, finding a piece of the shuttle to hold tight to even as Obi-Wan took hold nearby to the shuttle with one hand and let his other arm loop around her waist to hold her securely during impact. Not a moment too soon either: the silvery white surface of an ice moon grew more and more close as the shuttle's engines and thrusters pitifully tried to keep up with demand despite their damage sustained—and while Cody let loose a determined yell at the controls, then they hit the ground hard, the spacecraft ploughing into the terrain with a spray of snow and ice before it slowed down and then finally ceased to move with one final groaning creak.

"Is everyone all right?" Obi-Was asked as Rex got up from where he'd fallen and Cody groaned but nodded yes. Sabé nodded a yes too, and briefly hugged an arm around Obi-Wan's neck—they'd survived the first problem of the day, but there was a whole new one.

"Outside temperature readout is subzero," Cody said, sounding a little out of breath but otherwise like he was getting back to business. "Doesn't look like there's anything here except plateaus." Artoo moaned apprehensively.

The moon's surface was dark, not close enough to a sun to be lit very well. They could see the explosion's aftermath still lighting space up in the sky above. "Is our distress signal working?" Obi-Wan asked, approaching the simple control panel of the shuttle's piloting system. "Did Anakin make it off the asteroid? Can you make contact with his ship?"

The shuttle suddenly went completely dark and silent, all systems shutting off. Cody hit against the motherboard uselessly, as if he could jostle it back to cooperating. "Yes, he did, but everything's just died," he muttered, banging the controls a few more times to no effect. "Come _on_."

"We'll go check the outside of the ship to see if anything's repairable," Rex offered, but he sounded distinctly shaken up and doubtful. "Our armor should keep us a little warmer than it would you two."

"I'll check the hold and see if there's anything we can use," Obi-Wan said and Sabé collapsed lightly to sit on the useless control panel and finally let herself breathe—there, her eyes and Obi-Wan's briefly locked for a brief and tense moment before he retreated completely to attend to the things that were most pressing.

Artoo rolled toward Sabé, giving a despondent little _oooh_. She put a hand onto his dome and without much optimism, looked out into the the icy and snowy outside. Already, the brutally cold temperatures seemed to be making the shuttle interior feel colder. Sabé grimly thought she knew how good their chances of rescue were. And as such, she sank into deep, grave thoughts.

* * *

Obi-Wan may have been unconscious for a good bit of what led up to the crash, but he could parse it together well enough, and once he'd checked the hold (which was empty of anything useful) and both Rex and Cody returned from their outside investigation, he confirmed with them what had happened: Sabé had stayed behind for the explicit purpose of saving him.

Rex and Cody also confirmed the worst about the shuttle's engines: they'd been destroyed in the crash. Repair was impossible and to the communication system too. The climate outside was hostile to human life, and no shelter of any kind existed on the moon. And while Obi-Wan had reason to believe that Anakin would send scouting parties to the moons and other large asteroids nearby to find them in normal circumstances—no one even knew they'd made it off the asteroid at all. They'd escaped so last-minute that their shuttle had been lost in the explosion, probably appearing to be a flying part, not an escaping group. So for all anyone knew, Obi-Wan, Sabé, Cody and Rex had died when it broke apart. In all probability, no one would come looking.

It all led to one conclusion: they were trapped here. They would more than likely die, and soon too. While Rex and Cody grimly accepted fate and told Obi-Wan it had been an honor serving with him, Sabé had remained out of earshot in the cockpit and would need to be told separately. Obi-Wan gathered himself and when he was ready, went to the cockpit, finding her where she'd been when he left a few moments prior.

At his entrance, she turned to look at him somberly and Artoo rolled out to leave the space—as if the little droid could sense that a more private moment was coming. With silver dim light bathing the cockpit and the way she perched on the edge of the console, it was hauntingly beautiful somehow, and Obi-Wan had a hard time breaking the silence with his bad news. All of their moments catalogued through his mind rapidly. All of them meaningful. All of them important. All of them somehow leading here. And to think just an hour or two ago, the two of them had been in the safety and quiet of her childhood home, wrestling with the details of their complicated relationship. And now… any future, rocky and complicated or otherwise, was suddenly denied to them. This was the end.

"Any luck?" Sabé finally asked.

Obi-Wan breathed out through his nose, a heavy, final sound. "I'm afraid not."

She looked surprisingly accepting, and that's when Obi-Wan realized that she already knew what he was there to tell her. "I didn't think so." There was a note of quiet defeat in her voice.

He should have realized she would piece together their impending fate. Bittersweet compassion stole through him at her resolute poise in the face of dying. For himself, he didn't fear death. It was merely the beginning of a new chapter for a Jedi. But it wasn't just his life that would be snuffed out. Cody… Rex… _her_. Filled with a pain like he'd never known before, Obi-Wan silently wrestled with reality. He knew the facts: Slowly, the temperature in the shuttle would go down, finally becoming too cold to sustain life—and there was nothing onboard to make a fire with or eat or stay warm with. They would all freeze to death slowly, and he couldn't protect any of them from it. Instead he would be forced to watch the woman he loved bear agony before she died, while being able to do _nothing_. If she'd only just listened to him earlier and left when she could have. His chest felt cracked in two. "You should have left me behind," he said hoarsely, trying to understand why she'd so stupidly, needlessly risked everything on his behalf.

Her head whipped over to look at him, and it was like the somber spell she'd been in was broken. Her eyes were sharp and reply was immediate. " _Never_." A single word spat out that was with a fierceness he had rarely seen from her. She stood up almost angrily. "I would _never_ leave you behind, Obi-Wan," she declared vehemently, eyes glittering in defiance as if to suggest he was absurd for even suggesting it. "And I would rather _die_ here with you today than go on to live in a galaxy without you in it," she declared unwaveringly, her words leaving an astonished silence for both of them in the slowly chilling air. Subdued, Sabé shook her head as her jaw worked hard and features contorted against a breakdown. Voice dropping to a whisper, her eyes were so honest and full of what she felt, searching his beggingly. "I've lost enough." An anguished pause. "Not you too."

Oh how those words hurt him, made him understand, and spurred him to want to go to her—he drifted closer by an agonized step, then stopped. Obi-Wan reflected with sinking shame that it had taken impending death for him to come to the realization he had just now _._ This woman had loved him in a steadfast, quiet, understanding way all these years… never asking him for what he couldn't give her, but instead silently bearing the pain such a dynamic brought her instead. And he had repaid her how? "I have been a coward all this time," he managed quietly, not understanding himself for a moment, only wishing to have the years back somehow. Her expression changed, shifting to guarded, anguished hope as he shook his head and his eyes became downcast. "You deserved so much more than I could ever give to you," he said, throat catching on the regret he felt. Her expression had gone still, shallow breaths coming quickly against her clearly rising hope. Obi-Wan's eyes rose slowly as he remembered that fateful kiss between them all those years ago and how he'd left the string dangling by telling her that in a different lifetime, that moment would have ended differently. He stepped closer to her, the long end of his tunic brushing up against her knee. "There is no different lifetime," he admitted starkly, giving her whatever he could in these last moments, trying to make up for the lost time. Trying to be brave enough to lay his heart out for her to see. His voice grew weaker in strength with every breath. "There's only this one. The one in which I've been fighting against myself for years, trying to deny the truth."

Her eyes were large and waiting, both desperate to know what he meant while remaining afraid to be let down. "And what is that truth?" she asked, voice barely audible.

Somehow, as he thought about it, the smallest smile came—sad and conflicted, but a smile all the same. He lifted his hand, letting the backs of his fingers reverently stroke from just above her temple to her jawline as her steadfast beauty, rooted in the purity of her spirit, caused him stillness. His hand found a resting place against the side of her beloved face, tenderly holding her with every bit of sentiment he had tried so long and hard to diminish, avoid, and deny. "Words cannot even begin to scratch the surface, my love." The way her face and eyes changed when he called her that—it only stirred him more deeply. Intensifying, Obi-Wan closed the distance between them even more, the warmth of her chest finding his as in tandem, his arm reached to be loosely around her and hers reached to be loosely around him. "You are in my heart like nothing and no one else," he said, throat squeezing as emotion made his eyes sting. He could barely find his voice: "And I love you until the day I die." Which, the moment he said it, he realized was _this_ day. Her eyes were shining at him as tears gathered there. Pain at his shortcomings clenched him in a cruel fist, and everything in him kept mounting and mounting to incredible emotional heights. "I should have told you so long ago," he choked, suddenly so distraught at his mistakes, his stubbornness, his fear of being close to her.

Just as emotional as he was, she shook her head faintly, mirroring him to reach up and stroke his cheek and part of his beard with her thumb, a touch he leaned into achingly—finally allowing himself surrender to her. "Don't think because you never said it that I haven't known," she whispered, tender pain and love alike on her face as her words melted him, anchored him, brought him back down. "I love you, Obi-Wan— _so much,_ " she managed, halfway between crying and smiling, her emotions scattered and earnest, finally growing still and meaningful. "Only you. And always you."

He was taken over by the strangest sensation imaginable in circumstances such as these: happiness. "Yes," he whispered, searching the depths of her eyes as peace washed over, "I've known too." Letting his thumb caress her cheek, he moved to close the distance between them fully, unable to wait even a second longer. She didn't wait either, moving to meet him halfway across the scant distance remaining. And at last, after so many years of wanting exactly this… their mouths crashed into each other's readily.

That kiss between them years ago had been curious, tentative, explorative, cautious. Today, their embrace was powerful, knowing, and desperate to show and be shown. All the things they had left unsaid, all the frustration left behind by denied moments came pouring out in unspoken ways in hands that clenched, cradled, pulled at each other—mouths that clashed, demanded, and gave in a gentle frenzy of desire, a desire they'd only dreamed of ever being able to show. The kiss left the two of them drunk on euphoria and breathless from the heat it created. The buildup of this eleven year relationship and all the bottled-up passion, deep trust, and abiding love they had for each other could have turned that kiss into something more very, very easily.

But after a moment, they broke apart just far enough to look at each other, as if to mutually confirm this was real. Their hard, quick breaths were similar, and the reverent awe matched on both their expressions. Obi-Wan held Sabé close at the waist and back. Tender, gentle things swam in his eyes as he touched her face again, letting his palm cup her cheek lingeringly.

"Forgive me," he beseeched, held spell by her. "For never telling you."

She shook her head so faintly. "I never expected you to," she replied, "Only very badly _wanted_ you to." A sad, brave, touched smile matched the trusting openness of her eyes, and he only loved her more for the way she was. She gave an involuntary shiver against the growing cold, reminding them both of what was to come. And even though the thought of that impending death was dark and terrible… Obi-Wan was struck by a thought that made him trace the length of her jaw and look as deeply into her eyes as he knew how.

"Somehow… it seems only fitting that our last moments should be spent together," he said, hoping she understood just what his love meant, and what exact regard he held her in.

She touched his hand that rested on her face, turning her lips to press a kiss into his palm then lean into their hands and meet his gaze with tearful, brave eyes. "I know."

Two words that made him burn for her. He leaned in and kissed her again, slower this time, an intentional and direct tone to the way he opened his mouth to hers. A soft sound came from the back of her throat that made Obi-Wan moan quietly as he lost himself in the moment—crowding Sabé against the console wall that was behind her as they kissed with mouths and bodies alike. The amount of sensuality that they so easily found was surprising to Obi-Wan… but, it _was_ a language he had been waiting to speak for a long time, and she matched him blow for blow, deepening the way their mouths met, the sensual and thrilling touches of tongues and lips and breath. Sabé made another sound and clenched a hand hard into his hair, demandingly almost, making Obi-Wan feel absolutely _insane_ with a type of desire he hadn't even known he was capable of…

And then a distinctly startled robotic sound caused them both break apart and look. Commander Cody, absolutely shocked, was standing there frozen with Artoo at his side. "Oh—I—I'm sorry General Kenobi, I—"

A sudden wash of bright, moving light caused them all to look out of the viewport with squinting, confused eyes. Rex ran into the cockpit from somewhere unseen behind Cody and squinted into the light, suddenly whooping as he recognized the ship. "It's Anakin, I don't know how, but he's found us!" the clone shouted, his mood immediately shooting through the roof. However Sabé and Obi-Wan looked at each other in sudden dilemma and new pain. Slowly, they stepped away from each other, all while Commander Cody looked on with a vastly confused expression. A moment later, Obi-Wan would take him aside and forbid him to mention what had just happened to anymore.

* * *

**Later**

With a defeated spirit all over again, Sabé came into her dark RDI commissioned apartment and shut the door behind her. The silence (more like a distant muffle of constant city noise set against the quietness of her apartment interior) only added to her quickly diminishing mood.

Anakin's ship had found them—apparently he had used the Force, weakening himself even more than his original injury had done—to locate them somehow. The details were lost on Sabé. All she knew was that once they were on the ship, Obi-Wan had been swept up in talking to Anakin and then doing some sort of Holo conference with the Council and staunchly avoiding her gaze completely.

Padmé had asked Sabé where they should take her. She supposed Padmé had thought she would want to go back to Naboo to mourn Zana further. But Sabé didn't want to go back to that house—not yet. Especially not when Obi-Wan's memory was now there too, creating even more emptiness. After the events on the asteroid, Sabé knew one thing with certainty. She felt right when she was saving people and doing things that mattered. Jol's face, the young boy she'd saved, was a brief reminder of why she worked so hard doing what she did. To see justice for all, and to look out for those who were taken advantage of. She'd told Padmé about what he said about being punished for being hungry, then wearily excused herself to one of the small rest rooms aboard to be alone with her thoughts. Obi-Wan had not shown up as she so badly wanted and needed him to. And when the ship docked on Coruscant and a shuttle came to return everyone one-by-one, he'd been quiet and distant, sending hooded glances her way yes, but saying nothing. The most confusing part was how Padmé openly sat with Anakin, who was recovering from his injury, and showed him affection. Affection some might called that of a friend, but it was _obvious_ that their relationship went beyond friendship. Sabé had practically run off the shuttle without even a backward glance when it stopped off at the RDI apartment building rooftop—that's how miserable Obi-Wan's behavior had rendered her.

And now, here she was. Alone. Confused. And without answers. She wanted to weep for all the confused emotions. She didn't doubt that Obi-Wan meant what he said about loving her. No, not for even a second—which only made it hurt worse. She understood that their impending death had given him the freedom to finally tell her all his suppressed feelings. And now that they were returned to their "normal" lives… she supposed that unless something changed, Obi-Wan would stow those feelings like before. A scenario Sabé imagined would kill her slowly inside. To remember his words and touch and passion… and then be held at arm's length again. _I can't do it,_ she thought weakly, almost at the point of tears now.

It was painful enough to be mourning Zana. And now she had to mourn this too—losing Obi-Wan in a way that she couldn't talk to anyone about. Why hadn't Obi-Wan said _anything_ to her? She checked her comm, seeing messages from a few days ago and nothing from today. She drifted to the small shelf where that little photo of him and the bantha rested. She grazed two soft fingers down the surface that was lit only by the outside lights of a Coruscant night. She tried to shoulder her pain, tried to tell herself that she would somehow survive this. Perhaps she needed to learn to live in the moments they stole. Perhaps that would have to be enough.

And then her door buzzed, a jarring sound that made her shoot to her feet, heart racing with sudden hope and dread alike.

_Don't hope it's him, you'll just be let down._

_He wouldn't follow you in off the shuttle like that._

… _Would he?_

She hoped against hope, all while telling herself not to, because it would ruin her if it was anyone but him. Sabé approached her door slowly, afraid to know and afraid to not know. She hesitated, fingers hovering above the button as her heart hammered painfully. Then she activated the security footage readout to see who was there.

The air left her lungs. With a trembling hand she pushed the door open control, thunderstruck and in disbelief. Obi-Wan stood there, a resigned, intent, emotionally raw expression on his face that said _everything_. And immediately, Sabé understood his silence hadn't been anything but a shield. A guard over himself, so that he wouldn't be caught looking at her the way he was now. It was too telling, the way he regarded her. And she knew immediately that everything was about to change. Everything.

Neither of them said anything, only looked at each other with equally quickening breath and rising emotion across a very charged short distance… and then when she reached for him, he readily met her and pulled her into his arms, and even as they stumbled back into the dim apartment tangled into a continuation of what had happened earlier, one of them managed to shut the door, leaving a quiet hallway behind.


	28. Sanctuary

Various things were strewn across the apartment floor starting near the doorway: two pairs of boots, a Jedi utility belt with lightsaber still attached, a tunic and the undershirt that went with it, a discarded flight suit and two blasters, and finally, one pair of sandy colored pants. All these items trailed up to the small bed where two people were tangled up together, bodies still hot from exertion, awe still causing them to tremble as they collapsed and clung to each other closely in the darkness of a Coruscant night.

Hard breaths mingling, Obi-Wan leaned his forehead to press into Sabé's and she shut her eyes, her arms holding him close and hands gripping into his bare skin tightly. She never wanted to forget this moment, and focused all her senses on committing everything to memory. The way he felt, the way he sounded, the moments leading up to the sweetest and most powerful consummation imaginable. The long awaited moment of a union she had never imagined actually coming to fruition. She was still reeling in blissful disbelief.

Only a few moments ago they'd stumbled into the apartment blindly, knocking up against a wall as they had kissed and touched each other in escalating desperation—but then at a certain point before any clothes had come off, Obi-Wan had faltered. Stopping to gauge him, Sabé had only just been able to see the details of his face in the dim light of passing ships. "What's wrong?" He'd seemed hesitant to answer. Concern had grown as she touched his face gently. "You look afraid."

He'd struck her as incredibly vulnerable and even a little shy in that moment. "I—I've just never done this before," he had conceded huskily. Fearless in battle and sure of himself in almost every other way, seeing him apprehensive to have a physical encounter had inspired a great surge of love in the depths of Sabé's heart.

"If you don't feel ready we don't have to," she'd told him in all earnestness—because she understood completely. What they were heading toward could be very intimidating indeed. And there was no need to rush. She would sleep at his side a thousand nights with nothing else gladly, content with whatever closeness felt safest for him.

Obi-Wan had shaken his head readily, a spark of something far brighter behind the apprehension. "I _am_ ready," he breathed, eyes full of fascination and timid hunger that sparked heat down deep in her. "…Only very nervous."

How had it been possible to love him even more? She didn't understand it, but did. He needed reassurance, and she hoped she knew how to give that to him. "It's just me," she'd said fondly, because there had never been much pretense or expectation between them, and he knew he didn't have to put up some front or be someone he wasn't with her. Chancing to drift closer and stroke her thumb across the beard under her thumb, she smiled hopefully, heart rate quick and light. "Follow my lead?" The question was asked in a nearly impish way—as Sabé had simultaneously wondered if he could sense that she was nervous, too.

Her question had created visible effect, and the nerves faded into a braver, more entranced, more intrigued expression. "I can do that." And then he kissed her again achingly, drawing a soft breathy sound from her in the bottom part of her throat.

They took their time after that, letting the encounter deepen in a slower, more burning way. Sabé stayed attentive to Obi-Wan's energy, melting as he grew more and more bold—their hands began a slow approach to discover the other and wander to the more private places, drawing soft moans and exhales of surprised pleasure. Once they'd gotten to the actual act, it had been over quite quickly for both of them—the amount of buildup on Sabé's end resulting in the most shockingly quick peak she'd ever reached—which was good, because Obi-Wan's face and the soft little sound he'd made had said it all when their bodies joined: he had not expected it to feel as good as it had, and was doomed to very rapidly go over that inevitable edge. They nearly went over it together in perfect time, Sabé following just seconds after he'd given in.

Now they had found stillness and were unable to part from each other, still clinging close, laying on their sides facing each other with Sabé's head resting on Obi-Wan's arm that held her close. He thoughtfully studied her, stroking her hair at the side of her head with his other hand as he watched where his fingers trailed. Sabé could just make out his face in the dimness and another wave of bliss rolled over her in the afterglow. His first time… a touching and sacred thing in her mind that still caused her so many overwhelmed feelings.

While she already knew that he'd quite enjoyed it, she couldn't resist a little bit of lovingly done pestering. " _Well_ … what did you think…?" she prompted with a grin, her tone a mixture of teasing and affectionate. He hid a self-conscious grin, his eyes crinkling up to make him appear years younger and bashful. That only served to make Sabé's grin grow. "Obi-Wan Kenobi—you're _blushing_."

He didn't deny it, only gently took hold of her hand that rested in between their bodies and brought it up to his lips to drop a series of kisses across the knuckles, his eyes lifting to look at her afterward. "I know I swore myself to celibacy in youth but… I _have_ always wondered," he admitted, a thrilling and secret piece of information Sabé was sure he didn't share with just anymore. His dark eyes searched hers both reverently and knowingly. "Nothing I could ever have imagined before compares to what being with you was like," he said in a fierce sort of quiet, giving her a pleasant tingle of chills. She felt the same way. It had only been one encounter but his attentiveness, his passion, every last way he looked at touched and held her had been everything she'd ever wanted from him and more. Their connection had been made complete, all barriers taken away. Obi-Wan's brow tensed in the faintest spark of worry just then. "Was it all right for you?" he asked uncertainly, obviously feeling awkward about how he phrased himself.

She contemplated him in a surge of thinly veiled amusement. "What do you think?" she asked, drawing another sheepish, pleased little grin from him. He'd definitely heard the sounds she'd made and seen the effect he'd had on her.

"I just need practice so that I don't, uh—" he cleared his throat, red again, his eyes dodging hers. "So that it doesn't end that quickly in the future."

Sabé leaned in to kiss him, whispering these words to him before she pressed her mouth to his: "We can practice anytime you like." He chuckled and pulled her closer to him in a slow, leisurely kiss that she sank fully into, wrapping her arm around him while running a hand through his hair and tangling her legs into his. For a long moment, they breathed each other in during a sleepy haze of kisses and touches that conveyed all the love they'd held back over the years. When Sabé rested her face against his and closed her eyes again though… the happiness began to fade under the weight of something else.

Obi-Wan's voice was gentle and concerned. "You're worrying," he said, moving back a bit to be able to look at her better. "What it is?"

There was no hiding her feelings from a Jedi, certainly not this one. "I'm just wondering what happens next," she said honestly. "With us. And this." Her worry was spiraling into fear with every passing second as the things she hadn't been thinking about in the heat of the moment became impossible to ignore. "I know the Code's basic stance on attachment. Relationships. Love. And they're not exactly compatible with what just happened." Which was only a small part of a much greater whole. "Or the feelings we both have about each other."

Conflict and grim understanding showed on Obi-Wan's handsome face. "I know."

And of course he did. He knew the Jedi Order much better than she did. And his actions in coming here to be with her… would change things forever. She only didn't know how. Had he thought it all fully through? Had it been done in impulse? Would he regret this? "I'm afraid you'll leave," she whispered, cuddling her head into the safety of his strong chest and hoping so hard that she was wrong. "Or that we'll find ourselves trying to live in denial of everything again."

His hand stroked the back of her head to hold her close comfortingly. "I won't leave," he murmured. "And… I can't go back to the way things were. Can you?"

She shook her head faintly, not relieved, just further worried about how to navigate this. "No."

There was a somber silence. "When I came to you, I had already made my decision," Obi-Wan said, though not without some heaviness. Some vast and grave sentiments carried in the words.

"Which is what?" Sabé asked, feeling her heart beating quickly in nervousness and something like dread, although she wasn't sure for what exactly.

He pulled back, hand slipping to cup her cheek as his eyes sought hers. "You." A single word that defied everything and made her feel thunderstruck by emotion, confusion, fear, and love all at once. It was still very much to take in for Sabé: to hear the absoluteness of where Obi-Wan stood.

"But the Order…" she whispered back, searching his eyes deeply for answers. "I don't understand." Yes, their relationship had been leading here for a long time, but up until a few hours ago, they had been living in painful denial of what they wanted and so much had been unspoken and never acted on. Now it was as if the floodgates had been opened, and everything had turned a hundred and eighty degrees. But Obi-Wan was still a Jedi Master, and Sabé couldn't comprehend what this meant in regards to that.

He appeared to have given it quite a lot of thought, and spoke in a resigned way. "Our situation has for some time caused me to have to consider that perhaps what I grew up believing is… wrong," he revealed somberly. "Or at the very least, deeply flawed." His expression betrayed how this vexed him as his hand traced to touch her shoulder, his gaze following his touch and growing more tensely contemplative. "Emotional extremes like passion and love are thought to be a path to the dark side. But… despite knowing and believing that… I can't find fault with loving you. My head and heart have long been at war over this." He exhaled heavily and looked at her again, then became softer, his eyes filling with devotion. "I feel anchored when you're close to me. Not given over to chaos, not led astray. You give me peace. And an entirely new understanding of love that the Jedi Order has never taught of." He paused for a long moment, visibly turning it over in his mind. "I don't love you from a place of seeking to fill a void—and yet I am entirely whole with you." It was very hard not to feel overcome at his words. "I truly hope it doesn't come down to this, but…" he drew in a steady breath. "If the Council decides to expel me from the Order… so be it."

Sabé blinked once, thinking she had misheard or misunderstood. "… _What_?" she asked in soft astonishment.

Obi-Wan was rueful. "I won't hide what's happened from them—I cannot live a life of lies and deceit. I have to do the honorable thing." A brief silence stretched out, in which Obi-Wan gathered his courage. "So, sometime very soon I imagine, I'll tell the Council where I stand and…" he sighed uneasily, "let the hand of fate fall where it may." Processing what he was telling her, Sabé was quickly putting the picture together… and despairing. "That is, unless you want me to just leave the Order outright," Obi-Wan said, causing her thoughts to upend completely as he remained meaningful and earnest. "You need only say the word."

It was hard to find her voice at all. "…You would do that for me?" she asked faintly, shocked all over again.

"Yes," he said, but there was a sadness to him and Sabé felt heartbroken that he was being made to choose. She felt guilty to be the thing that would hold him back from the life he was meant for. Somehow, despite it all, he was able to be suddenly lighthearted. "Perhaps you would like some company in your moisture farming endeavors someday," he continued, teasing about that same old inside joke they'd been exchanging for a long time now. "I'm certain I could help around such a place."

A sad, reluctant smile was on Sabé's face momentarily then shaken away. "I would never tell or ask you do that," she said in a very quiet but decided tone that left no room for doubt. "If _you_ wanted to leave the Order, I would of course support you, but… I don't need or want you to walk away from who you are on my behalf." His face showed that he was touched by her words. "Maybe the Council will… will make an allowance," she hedged, although she already knew the chances of that were slim to none. It was agonizing to fully realize that the man she loved might have to leave everything behind to be with her. She didn't even feel deserving of that. Could she even allow him to do that? Would he even be happy living a life other than one in the Order? It upset her greatly. "Obi-Wan… you were _meant_ to be a Jedi," she said, catching him by the side of the head in tender urgency, her emotions almost making her tearful. "I don't want them to take that away from you because of me."

He was steadfast. "Don't trouble yourself worrying over what we aren't facing yet," he counseled, seeming much more at peace than she was. "Jedi or not, the Force will always guide me. Qui-Gon taught me that." He reflected bittersweetly, nostalgia making his eyes soft. "He _strongly_ felt that the Code was faulty." He smiled to himself and shook his head in mild chagrin. "Maybe I was listening more to those lessons than I thought." Coming back more fully to the present, he looked at Sabé, who was still fretting internally, all sorts of undesirable and painful scenarios playing out in her mind. Obi-Wan touched her chin lightly, drawing her distracted gaze to his anchoring one. "Peace, my love," he murmured entreatingly. "Stay in this moment with me." He nuzzled closer to her, and calm emanated. Sabé remembered his lesson of meditation, and did her best to breathe and release the thoughts that were causing her so much distress. In his arms, with the beat of his heart against her skin, she was lulled to safety.

Sabé allowed herself to picture good things instead of bad, and found a touched smile on her face after a bit. "Maybe I have a new plan instead of moisture farming," she ventured, because while that had always been the joke, her mind was contemplating an actual scenario. After the war, after RDI, after the Order—she pictured the two of them living some sort of simple life making their way off the earth after their time was served. "There's a farmhouse overlooking a beautiful lake I know of…" she said, feeling strangely vulnerable as she dared to dream of a life together in the house she had spent the first twelve years of her life in. "Maybe someday… it could be a home." She sought his gaze.

Obi-Wan smiled, his careworn features tender as he leaned in to kiss her in a slow, chaste way and run the backs of his fingers across her cheek before he dipped his head down, pulled her closer, and trailed his lips against the entirety of her neck, kissing her there with the type of uncensored sensuality that soon had her breathing rapidly and gasping softly as she pulled him closer to her. "Aah," she managed, half smiling and half concentrating on the delicious sensations that were immediately driving her crazy. She murmured his name, surprised and thrilled as their second round began.

After exhausting each other again and taking a much longer time to find the finale of ecstasy, Sabé pulled Obi-Wan into the fresher with her and they showered off together—a simultaneously familiar and affectionate task that took a turn toward playful when Sabé took the hairwash and lathered Obi-Wan's hair and beard up into a bubbly mass for him, sweet when he did the same for her, stilling when Sabé ran her fingers across his broad chest where a small raised scar rested. "So many scars," she observed soberly, her eyes darting over all the ones she could see as she wondered the stories behind them.

He found one of hers in kind, resting his fingers against the small, raised slash on her bicep. "Is this one from Tatooine?" he asked. It was indeed a scar from when they'd first met.

Their eyes met, and Sabé thought of when he was that young, somewhat insecure Padawan learner she'd met and gone on that unexpected adventure with. "I didn't bandage it right," she said nostalgically, remembering how drawn to this man she'd been even then. "Never healed correctly."

Obi-Wan touched two fingers to her face, exactly the place he'd touched all those years ago to show her where she'd been cut. Drawn into his eyes, Sabé was momentarily enchanted. Those fingers slowly traced down as his expression grew incredibly powerfully affected. "I was falling in love with you then and I didn't even know." While it was an incredibly romantic thing to say… Sabé helplessly hid a smile and stifled a laugh. Obi-Wan had a confused look showing through a dawning smile of his own. "What?"

She couldn't help it, and her grin started to take over. "It's hard to take you seriously when you look like that," she laughed, looking at his soapy hair and beard, her grin becoming one of the biggest ones she'd felt in ages as she laughed easily, in a way that washed every last worry and care away.

His heart was in his eyes as he drank her in. "I love when you smile," he said earnestly, ignoring how ridiculous she thought he looked. And both impish and passionate, Sabé grabbed his face and kissed him, bubbles and all. They both laughed against each other's mouths, then began to rinse off, an easygoing playfulness coloring the rest of the interaction.

Shortly after, Obi-Wan stood in his sand-colored pants shirtless, arms crossed, as he looked over the small shelf display in Sabé's apartment and finally spotted the little picture of him and the bantha there. "I don't seem to remember you capturing this photo of me," he teased as Sabé, still in a towel with mostly dry hair, came up behind him to hug him from behind. They peeked at each other briefly, and it was her turn to look sheepish and shrug. It gave away a little piece of her interest in him all those years ago, and the place in her heart he had kept from then until now.

Laying her cheek against his shoulderblade, Sabé closed her eyes and stayed there for a moment, breathing in the scent so unmistakably him beneath even the clean scent of soap. Outside, the world was lightening as another day dawned. "You're afraid again," Obi-Wan said softly after a moment, and Sabé's eyes opened and she let go as he turned to look at her.

"Stop doing that," she insisted, but only half-serious.

His smile was apologetic and coy at the same time. "I cannot help it, Milady." He circled his arms around her waist and they hugged close.

"What are you thinking about?" Sabé asked him after a moment.

When he took in a deep thoughtful breath, she felt his chest expand and could hear the air in his lungs for how close she was to him. "How connected I feel to you. How right it feels." He paused and his tone grew a fraction more sensitive. "And I'm wondering how you are. A lot's happened in the past few days."

Yes. It had. Sabé's eyes strayed sidelong nearby to a small HoloPhoto of her and Zana at Zana's medic school graduation ceremony. Her throat grew thick and things that could have been momentarily forgotten were remembered once again. It still didn't feel real or possible. Grief was like that, coming and going in waves and cycles. "I'm unsure what way is up and what way is down," she reflected sadly, that feeling of being lost once again creeping up on her. "Very thankful you're here." His presence was a lifeline and hope, a promise of better days ahead. Confirmation that she wasn't alone in the universe. "I think I need to stay busy as I work through everything," she said, thinking of RDI, of The Group, of the big picture of doing the right thing and fighting for justice. "Otherwise… I'll just be a hermit and spiral completely," she said, briefly thinking over all that there was to be done. But not yet. "I'll take a couple more days first," she said, knowing she needed a little more time to let herself be with her feelings. "Just to breathe. Adjust."

"I'll stay with you," Obi-Wan offered immediately, then edited himself. "If that's all right?"

Sabé pulled back to look at him, and his familiar, rugged face with the thoughtful expression made her smile. "Of course it is." She'd only waited eleven years for this, after all. He was her best friend at this point… among other things. Of course she wanted him here.

He gently took hold of her on either side of the head and pressed a kiss to her forehead, then let his forehead rest to hers a moment before he drew back and visibly went over a mental checklist. "I'll need to go by the Temple to get a few things, like changes of clothes, but after that… shall we go get breakfast?" he suggested. "Somewhere quiet, out of the way?"

Nothing had ever sounded better, and heart bursting with how in love she was, Sabé was incredibly happy despite everything. Hope prevailed over every negative feeling and every loss she had endured. She would take each moment as it came. "Yes, but first…" she trailed off purposefully and eyed him with a shy sort of suggestiveness, and let one finger touch to the center of his torso then trail downward as she looked into his eyes with one question there he understood immediately. Smiling crookedly, a dimple cutting into his cheek, he reached for her and her towel fell to the floor. The sound of their mixing laughter could be heard briefly.

They would remember this time as some of the happiest days they ever shared.


	29. The General's Confession

Two days later, Obi-Wan exited the air taxi he'd just taken and paused to take in the stately and peaceful beauty of the Jedi Temple entrance. Lit soft orange and pink in the glow of twilight, the familiar and beloved structure brought a strong surge of emotion to his chest. _Home_. A thought quickly followed by a flash of quiet dread creeping in. Today, everything had the potential to change.

Obi-Wan's eyes went up the expanse of the enormous plaza the led into the public Temple entrance—the way there was lined by enormous golden statues depicting Jedi from the days of old. He had always assumed them to be heroic and ideal Jedi Knights, beyond flaw or reproach. Now, he wondered if any of them had struggled as he had… if any of them had found themselves asking the hard questions he had found himself asking. Far above on the top of the Temple, several spires stood circling the highest and most prominent one—the place where the Council convened. A place that Obi-Wan likely wouldn't be welcome in anymore after today.

Two lines of the Code kept resurfacing in his thoughts, especially now.

_There is no emotion, there is peace.  
_ _There is no passion, there is serenity._

He felt emotion _and_ peace. He felt passion _and_ serenity. An impossibility. Yet, a reality.

Many years had been spent in this place: walking the halls and learning wisdom, strength, courage, and wholehearted submission to the will of the living Force. So much of his life had been shaped here, to the point that the familiar building and all it stood for felt like part of him. The Jedi Order _was_ his identity—and that was something Qui-Gon had tried in vain to get Obi-Wan to unlearn and move away from. While his Master hadn't lived to see it, Obi-Wan _had_ finally begun to see what Qui-Gon meant. All the years of knowing and growing closer to Sabé had culminated into perhaps the greatest lesson yet. He didn't understand what his future held or why it had happened this way, but Obi-Wan did know one thing: the Force told him to follow the calling of his heart when it came to Sabé, and had since the beginning—he'd resisted because of head knowledge and tradition, but he was finally letting go and heeding the call completely. That voice was the voice he would listen to over anything else. The Council included.

Obi-Wan began to make his way into the Temple, his nerves growing as the reality of what would soon happen played in his mind. He asked for calm and guidance to soften the hard edges of those nerves. Whatever happened today was beyond his control. The Force would guide him. He had known he would face this moment from the second he chose to go to Sabé's apartment. Before what happened on that asteroid, it hadn't been part of his plan to ever tell her the deepest parts of his heart or pursue the relationship—merely endure his feelings and helplessly love her from afar—but in the moment of thinking they were dying, a permanent shift had taken place. And there was no going back from it. The Force told him, his instincts and heart told him. His love for her told him. His entire world had changed. Today, he would find out how much.

Entering into the main area, Obi-Wan took in the familiar neutral tones and aesthetics, nodding greeting as he passed a few fellow Jedi. His thoughts kept him deeply engrossed. It wasn't entirely uncommon for a Jedi to leave the Order or be dismissed or expelled. It just didn't happen often. Did all of these knights and masters he was passing by currently _truly_ not ever encounter issues based in attachment? Truly never feel or know love? Obi-Wan thought of Anakin, who he knew loved Padmé. He had never fully called him out on it, understanding that Anakin was not a typical Jedi and that certain things were just beyond his control. Also, it would have felt vastly hypocritical to lecture Anakin on attachment and romantic feelings.

The last two days with Sabé had been blissful and healing. They'd gone to eat once at a very out-of-the-way diner—visited a little bodega in the lower levels for supplies—even stopped at the botanical preserve during off-peak hours. In public, they'd remained entirely platonic, just in case of knowing eyes. But most of their time had been not in public. They'd stayed in Sabé's apartment and remained enraptured with each other, getting to know each other better in a few different ways. Taking the days slowly, finding joy just being close to each other… emotionally and otherwise. Flushing a bit as he thought of some of the newer and more heated and physically intimate parts of their relationship, Obi-Wan rubbed at the back of his neck briefly, looking around to see if any of the Jedi he passed could see through him for how transparent he felt. No one seemed to be picking up on his more scandalous thoughts.

Obi-Wan had of course stumbled across _those_ sorts of HoloMovies before in his youth—and he was no fool, he'd been educated enough to know about what sexual relations consisted of. He'd viewed it as something which would only distract and have potential to addict, previously. But now having experience in that arena… he couldn't say for everyone what it was like, but for him and Sabé, it was almost sacred somehow. It was everything from playful and silly to awkward to thrillingly primal, but it was holy in a way too. Indescribable. Realizing he was beginning to daydream, Obi-Wan put these thoughts out of his mind, because they were making him feel inappropriate.

After some brief deep breathing and willful centering, Obi-Wan found out where Master Yoda was from another Master: in a meditation chamber with Windu. It was as if fate were at play. Obi-Wan ascended one of the sets of wide, carpeted stairs toward the meditation halls. He had initially thought telling the entire council would be his move, but then on further thinking, decided to Yoda and Windu instead. While the Council was not given over to a hierarchy exactly, an unspoken understanding existed that Yoda and Mace were two of its most reliable and prominent leaders. He trusted their wisdom and the perspectives they could offer.

Just before he reached the door, Obi-Wan had to stop and gather himself again. Keeping it a secret had always been an option, but an option he was completely unwilling to entertain even for a second. Still… that didn't make him feel any better about what was about to happen. The consequences could be anything from discipline to expulsion with dishonor. His peers would think of him differently. Disgrace and dishonor could be on the other side of the door. But Obi-Wan had to believe two things: the Force would not misguide him, and his service and deeds over the years would add to his credit.

With that, Obi-Wan requested to enter the room by pressing the buzzer. A moment later, the door swept open.

The meditation room was tranquil and quiet, the two windows therein un-shaded to let in the beautiful panorama of fireburnt city skyline. Sitting opposite each other in cross-legged poses, Yoda and Mace looked at him neutrally. Obi-Wan entered the room, and the door slid closed behind. "Master Yoda," he greeted with a nod toward each of them. "Master Windu."

"Master Kenobi," Windu replied indifferently, his gaze unnerving as usual. "Back from your leave of absence I take it."

Obi-Wan confirmed with an uncomfortable nod. "Yes and… I have something I need to talk to you both about." He sat down opposite of them onto a spare meditation cushion, effectively forming a loose triangle with their positions.

"Troubled, you are," Yoda observed knowingly.

Windu's expression was more shrewd, even lightly suspicious. "I sense great unease in you."

Obi-Wan felt his eyebrows raise briefly in a shrug. Soon enough they would know exactly why. "Yes." He took in a deep, steadying breath, seeing no reason to ease into the topic. It was better to just rip the bandage off. "I'll be direct. I have found myself in… a situation." Windu's face predictably showed more of a frown, while Yoda remained curious. Obi-Wan swallowed against a mouth gone dry, forging ahead. "I have strong feelings of attachment and love toward someone. And have for years."

A silence ensued, and while Windu's face showed astonishment, Yoda only appeared more thoughtful. "Why are you just telling us this now?" Mace asked carefully.

Mollified, Obi-Wan told the truth quietly. "I was handling things on my own up until recently."

Astute, Yoda leaned forward onto a clasp of both hands under his chin. " _Changed_ , something has," he observed.

It was easier to meet Yoda's gaze than Mace's. "Yes," Obi-Wan conceded, extremely uncomfortable with having to discuss the inevitable. "Things have… escalated. I tried to deny what I felt for a long time now but… I've found myself unable to any longer."

Mace leaned forward slightly, steepling his fingers. "You're saying the feelings turned into… actions?" he asked, then sat back again, at a loss when Obi-Wan silently confirmed. Letting out a soft breath, Windu was momentarily aghast. "This is not behavior I'd expect from a Master such as yourself." His tone became deeply disapproving and judgmental as he demanded more information. "This escalation, it happened during your leave of absence?"

Again, Obi-Wan confirmed. "Yes, it did."

"And you've since ended the situation, I assume," Windu said in an expectant way.

Obi-Wan raised his chin just slightly in an attempt to steel himself. "I have not."

Windu was without any empathy or understanding. "You already know what you must do."

Meeting his fellow Master's hard gaze, Obi-Wan was soft spoken but firm. "I know what would be expected of me from the Order yes, but… I cannot do that."

That certainly had effect. " _What_?" Windu was scandalized. He took a long moment to first exchange a glance with Master Yoda then fix Obi-Wan with a narrow-eyed piercing stare. "You're saying you won't end this… relationship?" he asked, distaste coloring the word 'relationship.' He became further displeased as he began to realize what this conversation was heading toward. "…Are you looking for us to make an exception on your behalf?"

Obi-Wan wasn't entirely sure if he even was. "Perhaps you'll view me as foolish but I think I can maintain my responsibilities to the Order despite what's happened," he offered, bracing himself for a verbal lashing.

"Are you hearing yourself? It's already too late, the mere fact you would ask us this is evidence that you've lost your ability to be rational!" Windu exclaimed indignantly, losing his composure for a brief flash before he clenched his jaw and cast his gaze away.

A green clawed hand waved briefly in a staying motion. "A moment, Master Windu, a moment. Calm yourself," Yoda counseled firmly, then his perceptive, contemplative gaze returned to study Obi-Wan. "Who is it, Master Obi-Wan?" he asked, expression showing a hint of insight. "Someone we know, I think?"

Perhaps Obi-Wan hadn't been as discreet as he'd thought. Meeting his Master's knowing eyes, a single word left his lips. "Sabé."

The green master nodded, taking the information in stride even as Windu's face betrayed his surprise and immediate disapproval. "Yes," Yoda said. "So I presumed." Obi-Wan's clear surprise at such a clear callout showed. Yoda gave a thoughtful _hmm_. "Saw you two together on Naboo, I did. Years ago. Sensed your connection then, I did."

Something like hope stirred in Obi-Wan. He had never known this. Windu gave Yoda an ill-tempered look. "And why did you never mention it?"

"Part of Obi-Wan's path, it was," Yoda returned evenly. "Handled it on his own until now, he has. Knew this day would come, I did." He fixed Obi-Wan with a little smile that further mystified him. "A test, this is."

Mace shook his head. "This type of thing _cannot_ be allowed to stand. We all know that." He looked from Yoda to Obi-Wan. "The Code is absolutely clear. The very nature of feelings is that they cloud one's senses—you know this, Obi-Wan, and you've demonstrated your mind has already become untrustworthy—polluted by feelings and emotions." He remained unwavering and forceful, disgusted even. "You must end the relationship. That's all there is to this."

Obi-Wan pulled his gaze from Yoda—who hadn't shown the contempt Windu had, and in fact, seemed only mildly intrigued by the news. "I'm sorry. You must understand how difficult this is for me but… I will not." Obi-Wan made his stance totally clear with his next statement, speaking steadily despite the pain it caused him that it came to these terms. "I will resign if I must."

Those words caused another great moment of utter silence. Yoda processed with shrewd contemplation on his face, while Windu's face grew slack seemed to understand more exactly where Obi-Wan stood. After a moment, he started to look at Obi-Wan differently. Not kindly, but not as darkly as before either. "I can only assume you made the choice to give in to your… your feelings with great consideration, Obi-Wan," he ventured.

"Yes, Master."

"And you've come to feel that this woman and your feelings for her are worth abandoning your place in the Temple over?" Windu pressed. He seemed to genuinely be trying to understand now. "Your station as a guardian of the peace?"

After a short pause, Obi-Wan replied carefully, trying not to let his personal feelings of hurt come through. "Abandoning seems a harsh word, Master Windu." He wished he could make them understand, and did his best. "I don't have any control over my feelings in the matter, Masters—my actions yes, to a certain extent but—you both know me very well, and how strongly I believe in the Jedi Order. Our way of life, the tenants of our purpose." He felt desperate in a sense—they had known him his whole life, essentially. "Do you truly think I would do something purposefully to harm the Order or even interfere with my lifetime commitment?" he asked, gaining a grudging look from Mace. "I affirm that some attachments can indeed be a path to the Dark Side but… I only have peace about the situation when I seek the will of the Force. I can't explain it, and I know that asking you to understand it is a stretch." With a worried pause, Obi-Wan chanced telling them one other piece of his truth. "My instincts tell me that perhaps the Code is flawed. Or that our understanding of love and attachment is shortsighted."

Windu gave a humorless little laugh, beside himself momentarily. "I suppose I've forgotten whose apprentice you were," he said darkly, then fixed Obi-Wan with a cold look. "Does your past of being the Chosen One's teacher give you some sort of feeling of entitlement? You are _not_ above the Code, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan accepted the harsh words, no matter how much they stung. It was time to stop speaking and let the cards fall—arguing wouldn't do anything but further divide them. "I understand how controversial this is. I can only say that if you'll allow me to still serve the Order, I will not let you down." Somber, Obi-Wan drew himself up a fraction to accept his punishment. "So I leave my fate in your hands."

Windu fell into conflicted silence. Then Yoda spoke. "In the time of war, we are," he mused. "Relieve of duty one of our greatest generals, we would?" Obi-Wan's heart gave a little start as the master continued. "Know Agent Nebira, we do. Trustworthy and upstanding, she is. Known her a long time, you have. And a strong connection, I do sense." Unable to believe his ears and where it seemed to be going, Obi-Wan remained frozen. "Clouded, the outcome of your relationship is… and apprehensive, the entire situation leaves me," Yoda conceded with concern, then raised a single finger. " _But._ " He held Obi-Wan's gaze meaningfully and soberly. "Allow it I will— _for now_ —if private, it is kept. Even from your former Padawan. Scandal, it would cause, if aware the public was." He turned to gauge the other master in the room. "What say you, Master Windu?"

Windu was slow to reply, visibly warring internally. "You're saying either I accept this questionable arrangement or we remove Obi-Wan from the Order completely." He looked incredibly foul as he looked at the Jedi in question. "If this were a conversation had at _any other_ time other than right now, young Jedi, I would recommend you be expelled immediately." He relented unwillingly, giving a disgruntled sigh. "But these are not normal circumstances." He folded his arms and raised his chin fractionally, achieving a defiant effect. He held the power for a moment, letting silence ring before he spoke again. "I don't like this. I don't even fully agree. But Master Yoda is right. We can't afford to lose you in the efforts to end this war." He let an irreverent, bad-tempered hand fly as if to say _kriff it_. "So be it." He fixed Obi-Wan with another dangerous stare as he refolded the arm across his chest. "However, after the war concludes, we _will_ revisit the subject and review your position in the Order after we make the Council aware of what you've done. And if we can see that this dynamic is affecting your performance as a Jedi, I expect we'll reconsider our very generous position." Appearing as though it killed some small part of him to say what he did next, Windu let out a hard exhale through his nose. "Be _discreet,_ Obi-Wan."

Thankful and reassured to have even the smallest of chances, Obi-Wan remained outwardly stoic even though inwardly, he had never felt so relieved. "Thank you, Masters. I will do as you say." He could see that both of them, but especially Windu, had changed opinions of him, and it was difficult to bear. "I'm sorry I've disappointed you." His only consolation was that he had a proving ground to show that he could love someone and serve the Order completely. He hoped he wasn't a fool for this wild hope. The Force assured him he wasn't.

"Get ready to deploy," Windu replied artlessly. "You, Anakin, and Ahsoka are needed on Onderon and leave within the hour."

A little shocked—he needed to tell Sabé, who would be waiting anxious, about the outcome of this conversation. Obi-Wan swallowed his shock down and nodded once in a single sweep. "May the Force be with you, Masters." He stood and exited, ready to face this new challenge and uncharted territory.

After Obi-Wan left and the door closed behind him, Windu shook his head in a defeated way, an instance of distressed emotion showing through as he sought the other Master's gaze. "These are strange and troubling times."

Yoda nodded, appearing lost in his own thoughts. "Agree with you I do," he said, studying the doorway briefly. "But glad I am that Obi-Wan told us. _Some_ Jedi, keeping secrets, they are." He gave Windu a meaningful look.

"His forthcomingness influenced your decision," Windu surmised.

"Mm." Yoda remained at peace, despite the news that had rattled Mace so. "Try to do the right thing, Obi-Wan always has."

"The right thing?" Windu repeated, implying he was insulted at the thought. "He knows better!"

Yoda sent a small smile his way. "Master Windu, trust the Force. At work here it is, as in all things it is too."

Windu fell silent for a moment, sinking into deeper thoughts. "We're not what we once were." Yoda agreed wordlessly as Windu concluded grimly. "I sense dark times ahead."

Yoda sighed deeply from the bottom part of his throat. "Alone in that, you are not."

* * *

Sabé raced over to the naval base to meet Obi-Wan, whose message had only said: _Meet me at the shipyards, I'm being deployed._

At the very least, that meant he was still in the Order, she reasoned. But she couldn't be sure until she heard it from his mouth directly. Sending him off earlier and knowing he was on his way to tell Master Yoda and Windu about their romance had caused a lot of anxiety and apprehension. All the thoughts of possible outcomes had plagued her ever since he told her his intentions to make them aware. But today it had become enormously real. Knowing and loving Obi-Wan, she knew his place was as a Jedi. Had there ever been such a noble and compassionate man who stood by his duty and honor like he did? That was why she'd fallen in love with him: his strength of character. Sometimes, it was easy to feel guilty, as if she were the thing that had contaminated him and distracted him from his noble life's work. She knew that once members of the Council knew about their dalliance, she would most likely be viewed incredibly negatively. Like a mistress who had seduced a husband away from his marriage.

With these thoughts weighing on her mind, she arrived at the base and using her RDI clearance badge to enter into the deck level where one could see down into the shipyard floor. Being that it was nighttime, visibility was a little less attainable than in the daylight, but she could still clearly see thousands of clones marching into a cruiser that was clearly in the final stages of getting ready to deploy. Wind whipped at Sabé as she looked over the railing and then searched around for Obi-Wan. A small squad of the 501st marched by her and she eyed them briefly, then followed after. Then, beyond them as they turned to enter the cruiser via a smaller ramp on this level, she saw the General she sought on the other side of the marching troopers. He saw her too, and his face which had been tense and stern as he spoke with Commander Rex softened. He wore his armor, and stilled, Sabé swallowed, both thinking how handsome he was and how difficult it was to see him walking into danger. He flicked his eyes toward a small side hallway nearby to her and she took his meaning and gave a slight nod, cast a covert glance around, then went to the hall quickly, careful not to look too rushed nor too casual.

In the deserted shadowed tunnel-like hallway she waited, feeling distinctly like she was hiding—or like she was on a covert mission. Her paranoia made her stomach churn. Or maybe that was her apprehension about knowing what the Council had said. Obi-Wan appeared a moment later, his cloak fluttering softly behind as he strode to meet her in the shadows. He took hold of both her hands when he reached her, and he seemed extremely relieved. "Thank the Force you made it," he murmured urgently. "I'm sorry I couldn't send a longer message."

"What did they say?" She asked, unable to wait a single second longer to know their fate. She didn't care about his inability to send a longer message. It was obvious he had a lot going on.

Obi-Wan smiled softly, his eyes as gentle as his expression, and Sabé understood before he spoke. "They'll allow our relationship for now." A breath she hadn't known she'd been holding was released. "But only because of the war. We have to be very discreet," he continued meaningfully. "No one else can know."

Smiling helplessly, understanding that their problems weren't over, merely delayed, it still felt like victory, and high-strung tears pricked her eyes as she nodded rapidly. "Okay," she agreed, smiling through her overwhelmed relief. "I think I can do that." It was actually more than she'd hoped for.

"After the war is over, things will most likely change," Obi-Wan said, "but until then, I'm still a Jedi in the Order." His tone implied that it was nothing to dwell on in the now. He studied her with burning eyes, his voice dropping in volume to sound more hoarse. "Do you know I miss you already?" he asked, cupping a hand to her face tenderly.

"I miss you too," she returned in a fierce whisper, searching his eyes as she still worked to believe that she and Obi-Wan were truly here. This place of openly loving with each other and somehow finding a way to be… together. She could still barely comprehend it, and the thought both overjoyed and wrecked her, terrified her too. She chanced a brief kiss, taking hold of his face and pressing her lips strongly to his to convey her feelings. When they came apart, they both glanced around and took their hands off of each other for fear of being seen. "Where are they sending you?" Sabé asked.

Regret shimmered across his face. "Onderon—I'm sure you'll hear about it in this week's briefing. I don't know when I'll be back." She nodded, no choice but to accept it head on. "I'll contact you whenever it's safe," he said hopefully, then lapsed into sudden intense worry. "Please be careful."

Sabé tilted her head to the side, a rueful, long-suffering smile on her face. " _You_ be careful." His expression didn't change and she gently, sadly admonished him. "Stop that."

His eyebrows moved slightly inward. "Stop what?"

"Worrying." She reached out to hold his hand again and squeeze. "I'll be waiting when you come back," she promised, then pulled a face. " _Some_ one has to keep Coruscant in one piece while you and your friends save the galaxy out there." A pained, familiar, and understanding smile passed between them. Knowing that sending him off with strength and confidence was what they both would need in the more difficult hours of separation, Sabé stood on tiptoes and put her arms around his neck, hugging closely and shutting her eyes tightly. His armor, hard against her, was a reminder of the battle he would no doubt be facing. The danger he would no doubt be in. It felt like their relationship had only just begun, and now they were being taken apart from each other. "Just come back to me safe," she whispered, pushing the lump in her throat away as he held her closely and briefly.

When they pulled back just a little bit, he had a tender smile on his face. "As the queen says," he said, causing that lump in her throat to grow and the undying fire that burned in his name to only grow brighter. He had said that to her on Tatooine all those years ago.

"I love you," she whispered, momentarily afraid of how much.

Steadfast, he didn't let her gaze drop for even a second. "And I love you."

The sound of marching nearby alerted them that they needed to break apart, and that it was time to go. Loathe to leave but with no other choice, Obi-Wan took hold of one of her hands and squeezed, not letting go of her hand or her gaze until he was arm's length away. Left in the shadows to bear the burden of his farewell, Sabé watched him walk away, then when she could see him no more, leaned against the wall and closed her eyes. They both had their duties. Their drives in life. Their paths to follow. And while Sabé wouldn't be starting back to RDI for one more day, she did take some peace from the fact that she would soon be busy again. Not thinking constantly of her loss, of her grief, or of General Kenobi on the front lines.

After a moment, Sabé moved out of the hallway as the cruiser began to hover and prepare for liftoff, and she watched it begin to drift upward. She supposed unless the war ended soon, they would have to grow used to difficult goodbyes. And what about _after_ the war? What would their fate be then? She supposed, bleakly, they would have to wait and see.

Her wrist comlink, which she'd begun wearing again in preparation to rejoin the real world, suddenly beeped with an incoming vocal transmission. Startled and immediately irritated by the sound, Sabé lifted it to cut off whoever was bothering her in her off time. Then a familiar, golden voice came through, and she didn't cut the transmission once she heard the urgency in his tone. "Nebira—I'm about to send you some encrypted coordinates. Meet us there immediately."

Sabé hesitated. Something in his tone told her it was serious, but she didn't have it in her to do anything regarding The Group or RDI at this exact moment. "Daggoth, I'm in the middle of—"

" _Nezuma's been killed_ ," he hissed urgently, making the hairs on her body stand straight up from the implication that so strongly informed the tension in Daggoth's voice. " _Hurry_."

Sabé's arm drifted downward. Had The Group been compromised? Sabé set her jaw and given no other choice, turned hard on her heel and made for her swoop bike, even as the cruiser holding Obi-Wan still slowly lifted upwards and into the sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone's lost track of time, we are about one year into the war so far.


	30. Trust No One

The nightscape of Coruscant was a blur underneath Sabé's swoop bike as she coaxed more speed out its engine and switched travel lanes—going from a more congested string of ships and vehicles to one with barely any traffic. While night had fallen an hour or more ago, the light pollution made for easy visibility—it never got truly dark here. Gripping the steering bar harder, Sabé squinted ahead to the less populous area she was headed into. The coordinates Daggoth sent were in the construction district, which was famously a good place to go get into trouble.

 _Nezuma is dead_. The terrible, shocking news and lack of more information was making for a very anxious state of mind. Sabé mentally went over the few times she'd met up with the group over the past few months. They always gathered in random and strange locations, dive bars, or back alleyways. From a place of both paranoia and secrecy, they made sure there was no detectable pattern to their movements. And while they'd had no reason to believe anyone was onto their activities of slow information gathering… maybe they'd been wrong.

Nezuma had been a key element to their small group: the Sullustan had specialized in surveillance and had been working closely with Sett Braxis on a few very important projects—projects that might be the breakthrough the group needed. So where did this leave them? Sabé guessed soon enough she'd know. With a lead stomach, she made it to her destination: the large, flat rooftop of an abandoned, dilapidated warehouse. With the buzz of Coruscant's more populated areas in the distance, the relative quiet out here was foreboding almost.

Four persons waited on the dingy metal rooftop in a loose circle, their bikes and speeders nearby: Sett Braxis, Platt Daggoth, Leda Voth, and Jego Tavu. Feeling emotionally gaunt, Sabé made landing, cut the bike engine, then approached. Everyone was silent and waiting, appearing grim. Sabé understood that she was the last to arrive, and probably behind in her knowledge at this point.

"Where've you _been_ the past few days?" Braxis asked accusingly as she came to stand between him and Leda. Immediately, it was obvious that he was not doing well. His pale face looked terrorized, and his wild brown curls seemed wilder than normal.

"Attending to things," Sabé replied in a sharper tone, leaving it at that. She didn't share details of her personal life with the group, so for all they knew, she'd been on a bender or just hadn't felt like answering. They didn't need to know she'd been dealing with her sister's recent death and coming to terms with her forbidden relationship with a certain Jedi. She looked around the group for answers, her concern and alarm difficult to push down. "What's happened?"

Daggoth sighed heavily, sorrow on his lion-like face. "Nezuma."

"The official report is that yesterday, he was killed in a speeder accident," Braxis said in extreme agitation.

"And what, it wasn't an accident?" Sabé asked slowly as she read between the lines. "Is that what you're saying?"

"I'm saying it's nowhere even _close,_ " Braxis hissed, pulling a HoloDisc out of his pocket. "Look." He played a low-res security footage clip showing Nezuma having a confrontation with Isard, in what Sabé recognized as the RDI principle Director's office. Immediately, Sabé was confused and full of dread. Hardly anyone went in there. Then Braxis's words cleared it all up. "He got _caught_." Sabé's stomach dropped. Caught doing what? The verbal confrontation appeared to escalate, but with no audio, it was hard to tell what the exact nature of the interaction was. And then without warning, Isard whipped out his blaster. Sabé gasped softly as the director shot Nezuma at point blank range three times - twice in the chest and once in the head. Horrified understanding clapped over her like lightning about all the theories the group had exchanged. Isard was every bit as evil as they'd guessed. The video winked out, leaving silence. Nezuma had been _murdered_.

"W-what was he _doing_?" Sabé asked, a shellshocked question all she could come up with.

"Something on his own that he didn't discuss with the group first, that's what," Braxis snapped, shoving the HoloDisc back into his jacket pocket before pointing at everyone in turn. "None of us—none—should be acting without consulting each other, do you hear me? I don't care if it seems like a good opportunity or you think you're onto something, don't go past our mutual agreements!"

Daggoth was level. "Braxis, _calm down_."

"We're all at risk here!" Braxis protested in a near-shout, fuming in fear and anger alike. "Nezuma is _dead_! Don't tell me to be calm!"

"You're no use to anyone in this state!" Daggoth replied, his typically collected demeanor falling away in place of a near roar.

The group went quiet again, each falling into their own grim and unsettled emotions. That's when Sabé realized something. "Wait, how did you even get access to this footage?" she asked, directing her gaze at Braxis with widening eyes. "Did you finally manage to hack the feeds?" If so—that was a _huge_ step forward. Braxis had been working on being able to anonymously, untraceably hack into several security camera feeds across the board: RDI, the Senate, Palpatine's Office, several media agencies, and the newly-created Republic Center for Military Operations.

Braxis was absolutely sullen. "Isard's, yes. The other ones no, it's gonna take more time and work." A muscle in his jaw jerked as he ground his teeth in his mouth briefly. "And I'm sure you noticed, I don't have audio. So we don't know what Nezuma said. Or _didn't_ say."

A chilling thought. Had Nezuma given anything away? Would Isard be coming after the rest of them next? "And this happened yesterday?"

"Yeah."

Sabé shook her head, jilted by it all, crushed by Nezuma's loss. "Gods." She let out a charged breath through her nose and fell into subdued silence. So much death. So much plotting surrounding them all. It was easy to feel powerless against the system of oppression and power put into place. It was easy to become discouraged when the odds stacked against them remained so insurmountable.

"Why don't we leak this to the press?" Braxis asked, a note of edgy despair in his voice. He wanted to take action, that much was clear.

"It's not time yet for that," Leda said, gentleness in the yellow Twi'Lek's tone. "We've agreed."

"She's right," Jego said, speaking up for the first time today. "We're not ready. The higher ups in the media will _never_ let it get past the cutting floor. And broadcasting it without protocol would get traced back to me, if not all of us." Being that Jego worked for the _Coruscant Sun_ , he'd know better than the rest of them.

"We could anonymously hack into a major broadcast to air the footage," Braxis argued, not willing to give up.

"And get shut down by the networks as soon as they realized unauthorized feed was up," Jego replied firmly. "I'm still working on an in with the network—we need someone there who's sympathetic to the cause. And as should be painfully obvious right now, there's no such thing as being too careful." His dark eyes darted around the circle meaningfully. "We _cannot_ act rashly and ruin everything we're building."

Sabé agreed, even though it felt like inaction in the current moment. "We need to sit on this footage and keep building our network of allies before we try to go public." Which had been the plan all along.

"It's just not time yet, my friend," Daggoth said apologetically to Braxis. "We need much more in our pocket _and_ we need a way to broadcast the truth without getting immediately silenced."

Braxis remained sour, but he grudgingly admitted the truth. "You're right." He shook his head, eyes far away before another spark of rage lit. "It just feels so _wrong_ to do nothing about his death."

"We _will_ do something about it," Leda promised. "Just… not right away."

Fury bubbled under the surface on Braxis' face. "Every time I see that bastard from now on, I'll be holding back from killing him on sight," he muttered in a snarl.

"Sabé is the one who's in regular contact with Isard, Braxis," Leda reminded in a gentle but firm tone. "Think about how difficult this will be for _her_ going forward." A grim reminder. Sabé felt faintly sick at the thought of sitting in all the information meetings with a cold blooded killer.

"Lucky her temper isn't as volatile as yours," Daggoth muttered, side-eying Braxis.

Braxis cast a simultaneously accusing and defensive look around. "We were _friends_ ," he stated in a trembling voice. "You all know that."

"Yes," Daggoth replied heavily. "And we're sorry for your loss. And every bit as angry as you are."

Another brief silence commenced, and Sabé fell into conflicted thoughts. She had come to believe in the group and their efforts to reveal to the public just how corrupt their entire government had become. But Nezuma's death— _murder_ —was a reality check. This was no game. This was life or death. The thought of life at the lakehouse with Obi-Wan could never be realized until this had been laid to rest. However… the possibility that she would pay with her life in the effort to see justice was very real.

"I still want to see what we can find out once Braxis manages to get access to Palpatine's office feeds," Jego ventured momentarily, his tone sober. "If our suspicions are right about the corruption coming down from the top, I think that's when we'll have enough to go public with what we know."

A comforting and terrifying thought at the same time. "And what about the device you're working on?" Sabé asked fixing Braxis with an intent questioning look.

"Has anyone noticed I'm doing most of the work around here?" Braxis asked, his thin patience leaving him exasperated. He heaved a huge, strained sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose briefly. "Sorry. I know that's not true." He looked tired—like he hadn't been sleeping much. "It's still in development. Nothing but glitches." He shook his head, at his wit's end. "I need more time there too. With all of it."

Jego nodded understanding then pressed his mouth into a thin line, his expression hollow and burdened. "Understandable. Well, we all need to be more careful, I think that's clear."

"And we have to make sure Nezuma didn't die for nothing," Leda added.

"Agreed," Daggoth said. "I think we should lay low a couple months. No more meetings until further notice. No contact unless of true emergency. Just keep your eyes on the look out." He cast his warm, perceptive gaze around the circle. "Is it agreed?"

The group was solemn and agreeable. And then everyone turned as the sound of an approaching engine could be heard. A small speeder was heading straight for them. "Who's _that_?" Sabé asked, hand automatically going to hover near one of the blasters strapped to her thigh.

"Today just keeps getting worse," Braxis muttered. Their circle became a line as everyone moved to stand as a united front, their guards up.

"I'll be damned. That's _Chronos_ ," Daggoth said, even as Sabé recognized the dark-headed agent who was vaulting out of the just-docked speeder. Rett began coming toward them with his dark cape moving around him ominously.

"Son of a bitch," Braxis breathed, looking ready to pounce.

Rett came to stand opposite of them by a good ten feet or so, his dark eyes and handsome features a mask. "Strange, we have this whole huge complex where you could have meetings… and you pick this dump?" he asked knowingly, his gaze sweeping over them calculatingly. "Some might say it seems a little… suspicious. Like you're trying to hide something."

Braxis, already on vastly edge, practically charged out of the line to square up with Rett, his blaster whipping up to aim directly at Rett's chest. "Cut the act, we know who you are!"

Rett's eyes dropped to the barrel of the blaster before jumping back up to meet the other man's. "And who am I?" he asked, by all appearances only slightly bothered by the weapon.

"Someone who walked into the wrong meeting," Braxis growled. "You got some kind of death wish?" he demanded. "And how'd you know where to find us?"

Rett remained collected. "You should sweep your bike more often for tracking devices, Sett."

The use of Braxis' first name made fury leap up. "Son of a—!"

" _Stop_." Sabé barged into Braxis' space, pushed his blaster down and away forcefully then gave him a dire look. His temper was going to really get them in trouble someday. _Not_ happy about the intervention, Braxis stood with a heaving chest, murder on his face as a staying hand remained on him. "Why are you here Rett," Sabé asked flatly, turning on her fellow agent with a dangerous look on her face. He wasn't someone to trust, but there were better ways than putting a blaster in the face to get to the bottom of it.

His gaze met hers in a way it never had before. He seemed… genuine. And it threw her a little bit. "Because I need your help," he said quietly. "And you need mine."

When he said nothing else, Sabé crossed her arms, suspicion doubling. Had he been playing a part all the times she'd spent with him before, or was he playing a part _now_? "Explain yourself." Behind her, Braxis paced like a caged animal, his blaster still in a twitchy hand.

Rett looked around at all the suspicious eyes on him. "You've all obviously figured out I'm playing both sides. But it's not because I have a stake in the game. It's because they force us to."

Braxis abruptly lost patience and charged forward again, trying to barrel past Sabé. "This is taking too long, I'm gonna shoot him."

Sabé's hand shot out to block him from moving any closer then lightly shoved him back, too. "No, you're _not_." Silently communicating with only eyes for two seconds, Sabé warned him to stop, _now_ , or live to regret it. Churlish, Braxis relented, shoving his blaster back into its holster but he visibly remained ready to attack. Sabé refocused on Rett. "Who makes you?" she asked in a hard voice. "Who do you work for?"

A fraction of uncertainty—or maybe fear— appeared on Rett's face. "The Supreme Chancellor."

For the second time that day, Sabé felt her mouth come open in astonishment. Beside her, Braxis went completely still. " _What_?" Daggoth asked airlessly, voicing everyone's shocked thought.

"His office, anyway," Rett amended, visibly losing some confidence. "I haven't confirmed he's _directly_ involved but… I think we're all kind of thinking the same thing, aren't we?" None of the agents answered him, only stood by with suspicious expressions on their faces. Rett began to tell his story, and it didn't appear to be easy to do either. Emotions of resentment, pain, loss, and anger played on his face and voice. "When I was a teenager, me and my brother were kidnapped. Taken from our family and enslaved into spice mines. A couple years ago, some men came to those mines. We didn't know who they were. They only took some of us away, the ones there who had family—and left our family members behind. We were all taken to Coruscant and put into some sort of prison, and I don't know how long we were there for. Felt like forever." He swallowed, eyes faltering, almost appearing to be tearful. "We were—we were uh, basically broken down completely. Mentally, emotionally, physically. Then trained and beaten down some more. Told that we were being put into positions that required our full cooperation, otherwise, our family members get killed and we get sent back to the mines. By the time they were finished with me, I believed them." His mouth worked oddly. "I never saw any of the people I was in that cell with again. They're out there somewhere, in various government positions, from my best guess. And I know there's more of us too. People taken out of kriffed situations and enslaved to the Republic, who no one will come looking for if they disappear." He laughed humorlessly. "We're supposed to earn our freedom in five years by doing whatever our director tells us to do. And if we do, they'll free us and let us go get our family. Lies, of course. I'm not a moron. They'll kill us when we've finished being useful. If not sooner."

Members of the group exchanged brief, unsure glances at Rett's claims. He seemed genuine, but it was quite the story. "How do you know the Chancellor is behind this?" Leda asked carefully, appearing to consider that he was telling the truth.

Rett looked at her directly, his expression gaunt… like he was desperate to be believed. "Because Janus Greejatus is my director." Sabé felt her eyebrows raise slightly. Palpatine's emissary?

"Now that's a bridge too far, Chronos," Braxis said, then let an accusing finger fly at him even while he looked at the group indignantly. "This guy's _lying_."

Rett clenched his jaw. "I'm _not_."

Braxis felt insulted, and it showed. "Greejatus wouldn't just _tell you_ who he is, he wouldn't show you his face. He's too recognizable!"

"He _didn't_ ever tell me his name!" Rett fired back, getting just as riled up as Braxis, and the two men stared daggers at each other, the space between them charged. "He uses a voice alterer and obscures most of his face but I knew if I could find out who it was, I'd have some leverage." Pain briefly showed. "In my situation, leverage can be the difference between life or death, okay? I went from being a slave in the spice mines to a slave here on Coruscant, so I'll be damned if I die someone's _sculag!"_ Impassioned and trying to get a handle on it, Rett lifted his chin up."Greejatus made a mistake underestimating me. And so do you. I plan to get out from under his thumb and bring down this entire place with me, or die trying." He moved forward fractionally into Braxis' space so that they were nearly chest to chest. Taller than the other agent, Rett stared defiantly down. "So that's why I'm here today, risking being shot by a trigger happy _tech boy,_ " he spat. "Because I need _out_ , and you need the information I can get you." Braxis' anger had become cool and challenging, and he silently asked _what information_ by raising his eyebrows and rudely pulling a face that seemed to say _I'm waiting_. "Proof that Palpatine's behind the corruption behind RDI," Rett said soft, low, and treacherous.

"Yeah great, hand it over," Braxis said in casual disdain.

Frustration came over Rett's face. "I don't have it _now._ "

"You can't even prove Greejatus is your handler," Braxis said scornfully. "And you expect us to believe you can prove the leader of the free world is a corrupt, evil, manipulative bastard?" He shoved Rett square in the chest with one hand, a surprising amount of force coming from the small movement.

Stumbling back and humiliated, Rett was flushed and began to look around at everyone else, searching for someone who would listen to him. "It's gonna take me some time! Do you know how long it took me to figure out who Greejatus was?! And then find a hacker to modify my tracking implant?" He looked vastly alone and afraid to Sabé in that moment, desperate for an ally. Silently, she kept watching as he pleaded. "I have an in _none_ of you could ever dream of."

Braxis chuckled in exaggerated aggravation. "No one told me I'd be attending a comedy show tonight," he said, further causing Rett to despair. "Daggoth is on the liaison team to Palpatine's office," Braxis pointed out, since it was public knowledge. "He goes there in person _all the time_. When's the last time _you_ stepped into the Supreme Chancellor's office, huh? Special ' _in,_ ' my ass."

Rett hung his head in defeat. Then Sabé spoke. "No, I think he's right," she said, and Braxis immediately turned to give her a scandalized look. "There could be an opportunity here," she insisted thoughtfully, studying Rett again with careful scrutiny.

"Nebira, we'd have to take this _traitor_ on his word," Braxis argued. "You really wanna do that?" The other members of the group, while quiet, were listening to every word.

Sabé gave her fellow agent a restless look. Braxis and his testy emotions were blinding him. "He _does_ have an in none of us have," she said levelly. "Direct line to commands coming down from the top of the very corruption we want to expose." She looked at everyone meaningfully and briefly. Tactically, that was something that could be of extreme use to them. "What kinds of things does Greejatus have you do?" she asked Rett, refocusing on him. Although from working several cases with him, she already thought she had a general idea.

"Delete, destroy, lose information, botch cases," he said, seeming reluctant and ashamed to meet her gaze. "I don't even know what I'm deleting half the time. I just know it's information that probably ties back to the Supreme Chancellor's involvement."

Of all things, Sabé felt an incredible surge of optimism and opportunity. This _was_ something that could turn the tide. In fact, this could be _it._ The access to information they so desperately needed. "Are you thinking what I am?" she asked hopefully, turning to look at the group and seeing the same look of pleasant surprise on their faces.

"Use that," Daggoth said, nodding. Leda and Jego looked similarly approving. Braxis remained foul tempered—seeing that Sabé had a point but being too prideful to say so.

"Yeah," Sabé agreed, then looked to Rett once more. If Rett was paired with herself, Daggoth, or Leda—all field agents—Rett would be able to claim he had destroyed evidence, while the agents acquired it and stockpiled it to eventually blow the whistle on the entire thing. "Would be a pretty good opportunity to prove yourself, Chronos," Sabé advised, still evaluating him closely. She believed him to a certain point, but she fully trusted no one and nothing. Well, almost no one. "I say we bring him on board under conditions," she said momentarily. "Like he does exactly what we say, and earns our trust. _Maybe_. And that _is_ a _very_ strong maybe."

"I can do that," Rett agreed, taut relief on his young face.

"Don't expect to be in the inner circle, young man," Daggoth advised, finally coming forward to address him. "For now, you do exactly as we say." Rett nodded readily.

Braxis pointed at him again. "And if I ever catch you touching anything of mine again, there's a laserbolt with your name on it," he threatened.

* * *

**Five Months Later**

Sabé piloted her Z-95 starfighter into the hangar of _Negotiator_ —Obi-Wan's flagship and set down next to the Jedi fighter she recognized as his, pulling her helmet off hastily and punching the control to release the cockpit glass open. She swung out and slid down the side of the ship, trying not to appear overly eager. _Officially_ , she was here on RDI business. Unofficially… _well_. She nodded crisply to a few passing clones, whose helmets were off as they milled around the various transports and ships docked there. Commander Cody was one of the clones she passed, and he had an odd look on his face when he acknowledged her. Sabé tried not to dwell on it.

Already knowing where she was going, she exited the hangar and headed down the familiar series of smaller halls into the living quarters section, watching to see that no one saw exactly where she was going: the General's private quarters.

The second she slipped inside the small and functional space, she found him waiting—he appeared to have been slowly pacing with his arms clasped behind himself… just as anxious to see her as she was to see him. There was a brief moment as the door slid shut behind Sabé that they just looked at each other with relieved happiness lighting their faces before they rushed to each other across the little distance into a tight, overjoyed hug. They had been forced to be apart for long spans of time the past five months, and missing each other came with the territory.

"Do you know how tired of all this I am?" Sabé whispered against his neck, relishing the feel of his solid warmth, the safety of his embrace, his familiar smell.

"Probably the same as me," he said, pulling back enough to look at her thoroughly, his careworn face made younger by happiness. "I'm so glad to see you," he said fervently, touching the side of her head lingeringly, his eyes full of love.

"Same here," she said, hands slipping to hold his face on either side—she couldn't stop smiling, her emotions that she checked so carefully in every other moment springing up when she was with him. Momentarily, they were content to just take each other in after the time apart—while constant communication over various devices and methods had become normal for them over the past months, there was nothing like being in each other's presence. And given over to a surge of love and passion, Sabé pressed an ardent kiss to his mouth, her arms going around his neck again as the kiss deepened quickly, making her head spin and sparks rain. His kisses were so powerfully raw in emotion, and always had been—conveying desire, reverence, need, and admiration all at once in the most sensual, gentle, fierce way. "I forgot," she breathed against his lips as they momentarily rested close, forehead to forehead. "How it feels to kiss you."

"A month apart can do that, I think," he teased, then his voice took a turn toward something more husky as one of his hands went down from her waist to gently skim her backside. "Do you need reminding of… anything else?" he asked, pulling her close by the butt, the suggestive tone and look on his face making Sabé gape against the threat of a grin.

"General _Kenobi_!" she exclaimed in false scandal, quickly dissolving into something like a giggle that just as fast transitioned into a soft moan when he kissed her deeply again, his passion growing more unrestrained. He hefted her up into his arms, holding her against him as he turned her and walked them to the built-in cot. There they collapsed down together, and were soon the closest they could get—making love that was all the sweeter and more intense due to the time spent apart missing and longing for each other.

An unknown amount of time later, they sprawled together on the bed they'd managed to unmake, blanket spilling off to the side. Head on Obi-Wan's chest with her hair loosely scattered there and across his arm as well, Sabé listened to his heart beat with her eyes closed as warmth made her entire body feel rested and blissful. She lived for these moments. Obi-Wan leisurely ran his fingers through her hair, and she imagined he was studying her as he did so. "I want this blasted war to end," he said softly after a moment, the despondency and weariness in his voice calling out empathy from her emotions.

She lifted her head up and found his waiting crystal-blue gaze. "I know," she said somberly, reaching to put her hand on his and hold it understandingly. "We're stale-mated. It's so frustrating." She had her own set of woes with this godsdamned war too. "And how is it that Dooku and Grievous keep eluding us all?" she asked, which was one of the most recurring issues that kept challenging RDI and the Order alike. Sabé stopped herself, realizing that going into depth about her war complaints wasn't the best pillow talk subject. She grinned apologetically. "Sorry, you probably don't want to talk about war right now."

"You know I'll talk to you about anything," he replied quietly, a simple statement that struck her deeply. Then he smiled. "But I _would_ rather talk about all the things we'll do once this is all over instead," he admitted.

"Hike the Krayamaga," Sabé suggested impishly, immediately getting quite the look. "We both like a challenge, why not?" she asked, laughing lightly at his reaction because that's what she'd been going for. Known to be one of the deadliest but most rewarding mountain range hikes in the galaxy, the Krayamaga was on Ryloth and took a week to complete— _if_ the hiker or hikers could survive the challenging passes. "What did _you_ have in mind?" she asked him, trying to be less joke-oriented.

He remained content and peaceful, rubbing his thumb against the skin of her hand. "As long as it includes us together, I think I'll be quite content."

He certainly had a way of making her heart full with just a few words. Sabé shifted a little to cuddle her head into the crook of his arm, so that their faces remained close and they could see each other a little better. It was still so surreal to her that she and the Jedi Master were doing this. But she also couldn't imagine reality any differently now. Not for the first time, she contemplated telling him about the group and its rising role in her life. He still didn't know about her secret dealings and the increasing effort to take down the corruption marring the Republic. She trusted him implicitly, of course she did—but she'd also sworn her word not to tell another _soul_ about the group. So for now… when he asked about RDI… she kept things generic. And speaking of keeping secrets, her mind turned to a certain clone commander. "Has Cody ever brought it up again?" she asked hesitantly, thinking of the strange look he'd given her today when she arrived. "What he saw?"

Obi-Wan shook his head slightly. "He hasn't. And I don't think he will. He does give me odd looks sometimes. Master Windu too."

Sabé grimaced slightly. "Ah yes. I'm still getting frequent dirty looks from him as well." She saw Windu often, as she did all the Council members—both in person and via Holo. And there had been a marked increase in mistrust from Mace Windu ever since Obi-Wan had revealed their relationship. Little looks and a sharper tone of voice used to address her. Small comments here and there too. "I'm selfishly very happy you decided only to tell him and Yoda," Sabé admitted. It stung to be looked at that way, all because she loved someone. "If the whole Council was looking down their nose at me…" she trailed off, supposing it was an eventuality. Not an 'if.'

Obi-Wan shifted to look at her meaningfully and supportively. "They don't understand," he told her. "They can't." He appeared to reflect on one other possibility: "Or they won't."

Sabé searched his eyes. "I think I can think of one Jedi who might."

"Anakin?" Obi-Wan asked, appearing to be conflicted. He thought for a long couple of seconds, his expression far off and eyes searching space. "Sometimes I do wish I could talk to him about this," he admitted. "It still does worry me greatly though."

"Their relationship?"

A somber nod. "Yes. I don't know the extent but he's so impulsive and reckless."

A soft, fond, almost teasing smile came across Sabé's face. "And you're not?" Some might say him showing up at her apartment door to throw everything into risk for love could be called impulsive and reckless.

Taking her meaning, Obi-Wan smiled ruefully, teasing her right back. "Generally, _no_." He took in a deep breath and thought about how to word himself. "It's mostly his emotional nature that worries me. He's so fearful to be alone." He caught her gaze again. "It's not good for a Jedi to be full of fear. To need so deeply from others." Sabé nodded, understanding that. She couldn't imagine _anyone_ should be driven by fear or an imbalanced neediness for others—it wouldn't end well for a normal person, much less a Jedi. Even though Anakin and Obi-Wan were in the same Order and lived their lives off of the same principles, they were two very different people—and while Sabé hadn't ever seen direct evidence of Padmé and Anakin being in a relationship, the clues and signs were there. She couldn't speak to how Anakin conducted himself in a relationship, but as far as how Obi-Wan loved _her_ , it didn't feel like he did so out of any reason but feeling the type of love that uplifted, believed, trusted, and respected. It was the kind of love she'd never expected or even imagined. "He can't help who he is," Obi-Wan continued, his eyes seeing old memories. "Or the life that he fell into. So I feel that we can only wait to see where the path goes."

Which could certainly be said of most things. Sabé turned her head and dropped a kiss onto the front of his shoulder, then snuggled into that space anew. "Well he had a wonderful teacher, I know that much," she said, every bit as in love with this man as ever.

Obi-Wan turned a little to be on his side, predictably skirting the compliment as he traced fingers down the side of her face affectionately. "He had a teacher who didn't have a clue what he was doing."

"There's a reason you two ended up together," Sabé replied adamantly.

Eyebrows raising and a pleasantly surprised smile appearing, Obi-Wan's face grew a dawning smile. "My goodness—is the ever-skeptical Sabé coming 'round to my way of thinking?"

Sabé realized she'd just said something that _did_ have implications, and a self-conscious chuckle escaped. "You know I don't deny the existence of the Force," she said, "but fate and destiny? I still don't know about all that." She had to admit though… "It _is_ hard to argue against all the things that led you and Anakin to each other."

Obi-Wan didn't push, just nodded and accepted, a secretive, knowing smile on his face. "Somewhat like all the things that led you and I together," he said, his hand coming to cup the side of her head in stillness. And just like that, Sabé was remembering them eleven and a half years ago, so young and so unaware of where knowing each other would lead. "In all my life, I couldn't ever have imagined a woman like you," Obi-Wan said softly, and that's when she knew he was thinking back, too.

Sabé felt almost flustered—she delighted girlishly when he said things like that. "Oh, tell me about myself," she said coyly, always eager to know more.

Obi-Wan did. "Strong… yet not afraid to be vulnerable. Kind. Resourceful and smart. Independent. Beautiful, of course." He cracked a grin. "And you think I'm funny, so quite frankly, you're perfect." His stupid, beloved sense of humor and adorable expression made her grin too. Grabbing him by the back of the head, Sabé craned her neck up to kiss him again—she could have done so all day, and from the way he softened into her and pulled himself closer into her, he could have too…

But Sabé broke the kiss regretfully. "We need to make an appearance," she murmured, "we've been in here too long."

Sighing in reluctance and agreement alike, Obi-Wan nodded. "I think you're right." He considered her for a moment, something in his eyes stilling her. "You know, after the war and I'm kicked out of the Order, I want us to go visit the planet I was born on," he said, causing surprise to make her face soft.

"A pilgrimage," she surmised. A touching and beautiful thought. Especially that he wanted her to come with him.

"Yes, something like that." He hesitated. "That is, if you're willing to accompany me."

Sabé shook her head, immediately grinning at him and reaching over to muss his hair. "There he goes with his jokes again," she said, then pushed her forehead to lean into his. "Of course I'll go with you, my darling," she said, using the term of endearment with more and more confidence every time she saw him. "And maybe the Order won't kick you out, did you think of that?"

"I very much doubt it," Obi-Wan returned, and he didn't seem overly pessimistic about it. "But that's a problem for another day, isn't it?" he asked. Sabé nuzzled into his neck, only meaning to embrace him, but then the bare skin of his neck enticed her to plant soft, slow kisses up to his jawline, "I thought we were supposed to be re-appearing," Obi-Wan whispered, his breath a little shorter and quicker than before.

"That involves getting dressed," Sabé murmured, "and not kissing you anymore."

Obi-Wan leaned heavily into her space, causing the back of her head to press into the bed again as he leaned over her, just a breath away. "It _is_ a very bleak prospect," he agreed hoarsely. Sabé pulled him close again and into a deep, languid kiss—in no rush to stop. A few more moments together felt worth their weight in gold.

**break**

Pulled away from another intimate encounter by a hail from the command bridge, Obi-Wan and Sabé had to rush to put themselves together, pat each other's hair into presentable state, then hurry up to the main deck to answer Anakin's buzz.

They found General Skywalker and Tano leaned over the giant round Holo display in deep discussion—Rex and Cody hung back, helmets off.

"Obi-Wan, Sabé, good," Anakin greeted offhandedly. His hair was long now, and his face bore a slashing scar across one eye and cheek—no longer appearing young and insecure, he had a certain sort of command to him, heightened by his choice of dark clothing. "Grievous's been spotted on Jedha," he said, causing both Sabé and Obi-Wan to immediately be incredibly interested.

"What the _blazes_ is he doing there?" Obi-Wan asked.

Anakin looked slightly cocky, his intent clear. "Hiding, I think."

"Hiding why?" Sabé asked, not having heard of a major defeat or a reason he would be doing so.

"Not sure," Anakin admitted.

"We _do_ know it's an out of the way system, not along the main hyperlanes," Ahsoka added. "Sparsely populated too. Definitely the kind of place someone would go to hide."

"Right, and, he doesn't have his usual forces with him," Anakin said. Sabé and Obi-Wan glanced at each other, recognizing where this was going. "I think this is a good chance to get him." Anakin chanced a lopsided smile. "And I already have us headed there, sooo… get ready."

Sabé had to suppress a little cynical laugh at Obi-Wan's clear look of irritation at being left out of the decision making. However, they both knew _why_ he'd missed it. "I just wonder how reliable the intel is," Obi-Wan said, and he had a fair point there. "Where did it come from? And when?"

"Just a few minutes ago, a small station of clones spotted him," Anakin replied. "Outer Rim Command's advised us to move quickly and carefully to apprehend him. Which you would have _known_ if you hadn't missed the brief." Anakin eyed them both too closely for comfort. "Where were you two, anyway?"

"Got caught up in a game of Sabacc," Sabé lied, feigning embarrassment. Then, her more daring and playful side spoke up before she could help herself. "I won, of course." She looked at Obi-Wan, an eyebrow slightly raised. "Twice." Obi-Wan visibly withheld a smile, turned a little red and cleared his throat for reasons only he and Sabé knew. Turning more serious, Sabé looked at Anakin and Ahsoka doubtfully. "I wouldn't get your hopes up about Grievous. Every time RDI thinks we have him, he slips through our fingers completely." She did have to concede though: "But… maybe today's the day his luck runs out, hm?"

"Let's hope so," Ahsoka said, her steadfast and willing personality showing through with her readiness to go give it a try.

Anakin fired up the grid display and a semblance of a tall, thin, jagged shaped temple nestled in a small city appeared. "Looks like he's holed up here, in the Temple of Kyber," Anakin said, gesturing to the pointed structure. "There's a grand sanctum in the middle of the building—" the display changed to show a rough blueprint of the inside. "He's probably there, but just in case, I think each of us—me, Ahsoka, Obi-Wan, and Sabé—should have a group of two clones with us and enter from each side of the building—north, south, east, west—and move toward the middle to see if we can trap him in the middle. Any more clones than that we'll get spotted. We'll need to fly a non-Republic ship in so we don't alert the locals. I have someone bringing us one now." Anakin stood back, looking at everyone else for their input, if any. "Air support will be on standby. We'll arrest him under Order and RDI authority, or take him down if he wants to fight. What do you think?"

Obi-Wan contemplated with a hand on his chin. "Do we know where _his_ ship is docked?" he asked.

Ahsoka shrugged. "Troopers said he landed it somewhere in the city nearby, but couldn't tell exactly where."

Sabé looked at the graph hard. Grievous was known for being a brilliant strategist, and this seemed to be a tactically weak place to hide. "Is this a trap?" she asked, casting her questioning gaze around. Anakin and Obi-Wan both seemed to have already considered that.

Nonplussed, Anakin shrugged and sent a sly smile to his previous master. "If it is… we have a tried and true method, Obi-Wan and I."

Sabé shook her head, trying not to smile. She knew this one. "And what's that?" Ahsoka asked, apparently never having heard before.

Obi-Wan and Anakin exchanged a look of camaraderie, then Anakin supplied the answer with an ambitious grin on his face: "Spring the trap."


	31. Ambush on Jedha

The unmarked freighter skimmed into the atmosphere of Jedha, leveling out over the moon's rocky surface. The desolate desert terrain was marked by jagged rock formations, broad mesas, and narrow spires. Two giant roughly carved statues of Jedi warriors stood side by side, their lightsabers forever held upright near stone faces that bowed toward the length of their weapons. They stood immovable, silently guarding the broad expanse of desert leading to Jedha City. Visible between the two warriors, still a good distance off, the ancient Holy City sprawled atop a particularly broad mesa that was elevated roughly a thousand feet above the desert floor. The Temple of Kyber was easy to spot even from the distance thanks to its towering height and tapered silhouette. It stood gracefully at the far end of the city, perched just at the edge of where the mesa ended.

"There it is," Anakin muttered in concentration, easing off the speed a bit as they shot in between the two stone Jedi statues toward the city ahead. Behind him, Sabé peered through the cockpit glass gravely, then shared a quick, tense glance with Obi-Wan. It remained to be seen if this was a good idea or not. War tended to force the hand at times.

"Is it true the first Jedi Temple ever was located here?" Ahsoka asked, mildly enthralled from where she sat beside Anakin in the co-pilot's seat.

"This moon _was_ home to one of the first civilizations to explore the nature of the Force, yes," Obi-Wan answered, his tone reflective. "But scholars are still not in agreement about where the first temple was." He paused, seeming to feel contentment and relaxation, as if the sun was on his face and he needed only to lift his chin to bask in the warmth. "I feel the Force strongly here, do you?"

Ahsoka nodded, her tone reverent. "Yes."

"I do too," Anakin said softly.

Sabé couldn't resist. "Well, now I feel left out."

Anakin chuckled and lifted his wrist to his mouth. "Commander Cody, Commander Rex, are your troops in place?"

The answers came in right after each other, each voice identical.

"Yes sir."

"Affirmative. Awaiting your arrival."

Anakin gave a confident nod. "We'll be there shortly."

"If we capture Grievous, this could be the start of the end of the war," Ahsoka said, her clear voice holding a lot of optimism.

Anakin smirked over at his Togruta apprentice. "Don't get ahead of yourself, Snips. Stay in the moment."

"Who taught you _that_ piece of wisdom?" Obi-Wan teased.

Anakin cast an impish look his way. "Some old man."

" _Children_ , play nicely," Sabé said, checking her weapons once more. Two blasters on either thigh, one with a special high-powered blast feature that did tend to come in handy sometimes; a small pouch with three thermal detonators; and a special metal extension staff that she favored—it was usable as either a baton, or with a snap of the wrist, it became a full length sparring staff.

"I don't think you have enough weapons, Agent Nebira," Obi-Wan commented mildly, watching her sidelong, and they shared a small smile for all the secret things they shared.

"We'll see," she replied. It was a little surreal and jarring to have to put on an act like they hadn't just been in each other's arms an hour prior. But to the world, they were just longtime friends who sometimes worked together.

As they grew closer to the settlement and could start to make out the city on the oblong-shaped mesa, Sabé had to admit, she _did_ feel something—maybe not spiritual or Force related, but _something_ about the Temple put a sense of awed respect into her that she couldn't explain.

They landed in the closest spaceport to the temple and disembarked together, everyone wearing cloaks both due to the cold winter air and the need to conceal their identities and weaponry. After all, they all had on conspicuous armor—the Jedi's bearing the symbol of the Order emblazoned red on their shoulder pieces, and Sabé's marked by the RDI designations across her right breastplate.

"Everyone stay close and be discreet," Anakin advised, putting his hood up then leading the way with Obi-Wan in step with him. Following suit, Obi-Wan, Ahsoka, and Sabé put their hoods up too.

Upon exiting the spaceport, they were quickly introduced to Jedha City, otherwise known as the Holy City. From the brief info pack Sabé had read of this place, the small moon was home to a few Force-centric religions—was perhaps the birthplace of the Jedi Order itself—and drew many pilgrims who were in search of meaning, hope, and purpose. Made up of narrow streetways and buildings that were crammed closely in together, Jedha City should have felt claustrophobic, but somehow it merely felt humble and honest. Simple. The smell of cooking food and incense drifted through sharp, chilled air, and wailing, soulful stringed music from an indistinguishable place sounded softly. Street vendors lined the already small spaces, selling foods, handmade goods, clothing, banners, prayer necklaces. The amount of foot traffic caused the group to have to go single file to work through the amount of individuals present. All ages, races, species, and creeds seemed to be here, perhaps seeking deeper meaning in life or answers to their troubles. Ahead, the unmistakable shape and height of the Temple of Kyber loomed.

Cody, Rex, and their small squad of six other clones would by now have landed in the desert below and scaled the back side of the mesa. If Grievous _was_ in there… they'd know soon enough.

The hooded group of them came into a crowded courtyard where it appeared small throngs had gathered to pray quietly in kneeled clusters underneath tents marked with religious symbols. Beyond them, the entrance of the Temple was empty—a broad but short set of stone stairs leading up to a door that towered high. Sabé found herself entranced with this place, wondering how it could be so imposing and peacefully intriguing at the same time. She stole a sidelong look at Obi-Wan, who seemed similarly struck by this place. It had to be a very meaningful place for him, she thought.

Just then, an average-height man in his mid-thirties wearing gray and red robes cut across the center of the steps in a languid, graceful stride, turning to face and then approach them directly. He'd seemingly come out of nowhere, and immediately caught their attention. He had a powerful but understated build, olive tone skin, and short brown hair. He walked with a staff, and strapped across his back was a lightbow. As he came closer, Sabé could see that his eyes were mottled and gray, giving the impression of blindness. "Stop right there," he commanded them softly, even though they hadn't been moving forward. His voice was accented and mildly stilted. He looked blankly into nothing. "Let me see some identification." The entire party he addressed hesitated, looking at each other dubiously as he waited with an inscrutable expression. Was he serious? The unnamed man then grinned. "It's a joke—I'm blind," he said amiably, his quick switch in demeanor disconcerting. He grew immediately serious again, stepping closer and letting his voice drop. "Have you four come to help us?"

Again, the group exchanged brief, confused glances. How did a blind man know there were four of them?

"Wait… are you a Guardian of the Whills?" Ahsoka asked, sounding vaguely awed. While Sabé didn't know what that even was, understanding appeared on Obi-Wan and Anakin's faces too.

The man nodded once, a certain practiced elegance to the movement. "Yes. I am Chirrut Îmwe," he said proudly. "Protector of the Temple." He paused significantly, voice becoming a whisper. "And it is in grave danger."

"How so?" Obi-Wan asked, drawing a head turn from the Guardian.

"The darkness, it has descended," Chirrut murmured vaguely. "You are here to help me stand against it, I think. Force users. Jedi? Except one."

Sabé tried a more direct approach to get a straight answer. "General Grievous is said to be here," she said. "Do you know anything about that?"

Chirrut's sightless eyes unnervingly came to look directly into hers. "Mother of light," he murmured, sounding faintly surprised and vastly awed. "At last you are here."

Startled, Sabé almost felt inclined to take a step back. A slight ripple of unexplainable fear shot through her. "Excuse me?"

He promptly ignored her question and his blind gaze went elsewhere. "Yes, he is here. The other Guardians are being held inside. The tunnels beneath the city are full of Separatist forces." He stood a little taller, puffing his chest out. "I will fight at your side, to free my brothers in arms and the people who worship the sovereign Force."

Another series of looks passed between the Jedi and the agent. "And do the free people of this city know what's happened?" Obi-Wan asked, trying to get a clear picture. It certainty wouldn't seem so, as the city seemed to be functioning in a way that appeared normal.

"No, Grievous came at night and locked them all inside, then took them captive. He brought in his mechanical army through a lower secret passage." Chirrut turned his head as if to look back at the Temple. "I heard. I hid. And since then, I waited for the Force to deliver us." He turned his head back toward them. "Now you are here."

Obi-Wan looked unsettled and grave. "Grievous didn't come here to hide," he said tensely, addressing his fellow Jedi and Sabé. "If we go in there and attempt to bring him to justice, he'll ambush us and we'll have no choice but to bring in more troops—starting what will turn into all out war. That's what he wants."

Anakin immediately resisted. "Think of all the lives we can save by taking down one of the Confederacy's greatest leaders here and now though, Obi-Wan."

"And think of when we make a move, all those who will be caught in the crossfire," his former master replied immediately, looking significantly toward the many people praying nearby, his expression gaunt and full of concern. "It isn't the Jedi way."

Anakin didn't seem to be on the same page. "So you suggest what, that we let this opportunity go?"

Obi-Wan didn't reply, falling into deep, unsettled thought. Ahsoka spoke up then, her young wisdom remarkable. "I don't think Grievous wanted to lure us here to start a war. He would have attacked already. He's attempting to _lure_ us." She looked to her master knowingly. "I think he wants Obi-Wan and Anakin off the playing board."

Sabé had to agree, based on what she knew of Grievous and his knack for strategy—plus the way Obi-Wan and Anakin had emerged as prominent, formidable leaders in the war provided excellent motivation. Grievous must have known that these two were close by when he chose to create this trap on Jedha. "I think you're right," she agreed with Ahsoka. "But I _do_ think war is a secondary goal of his, too." After all—the Confederacy wanted to tear apart as many neutral and Republic-affiliated systems as possible. She looked toward the Temple, which was so quiet and still… unknown dangers lurking inside. "It's too late to walk away without consequences," she reasoned grimly, her mind going over all the information this strange man Chirrut had provided. "There are civilians in there—we have to help them. At this point conflict is inevitable—we just need to minimize casualties."

Obi-Wan nodded, putting a hand to his chin in contemplation. "I think it's time we revisit our original plan."

* * *

Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Ahsoka entered into the Temple of Kyber alone, the hoods on their robes down. Inside the Temple was dark, and it took their eyes a moment to adjust—first they came into a small sanctum where likenesses of Jedi warriors were carved from softly glimmering crystal the color of aqua waters. These statues loomed hugely overhead, bowing over any who entered and simultaneously lining the way toward another doorway directly ahead that promised more mysteries. While a couple of other passages were visible on either side, carefully the Jedi Knights moved forward, having to take intentional, quiet footsteps for how silent and still the place was. They entered into the central doorway, finding a glittering, crystalline tunnel that gave way to an enormous sanctuary beyond. It was dim there too, and Obi-Wan _felt_ the space before he saw it. Powerful and holy things rested here. The sanctuary glowed aquamarine, a sparkling palace of Kyber crystal growths. The ceiling wasn't even possible to see—just walls crusted with crystal geode growths reaching upward toward an unknown, soft light source. The entire place seemed to hum and shimmer with invisible energy. The kind of energy that was difficult to process.

"My senses feel overwhelmed in here," Ahsoka murmured, dazed to stillness.

Anakin sounded just as awestruck as she did. Distracted, even. "Mine do too."

Obi-Wan felt the same—something about the amount of crystals here made his head buzz and feel light, made him feel a little less mentally sharp—but he kept his eyes forward—catching sight of a familiar, ghastly sight. "Look. There he is."

Grievous awaited them at the grand altar, his skeletal imposing height offset by a gray robe. His haunting, reptilian eyes watched them silently as they made their approach slowly, on guard for attack. On either side of him, two pillars lit with flames burned bright, reflecting dancing crystal spots of light. Obi-Wan glanced briefly upward and sidelong, spotting one of the alcoves Chirrut had told them how to access. He could just barely make out Sabé's hooded face in the shadows there.

"There's the Guardians," Ahsoka noted lowly, seeing a group captives off to the side in a more shadowed area. It was perhaps thirty men suspended in a giant binding field—their limbs immovable. They dressed in the same style of robes Chirrut had worn, and had their lightbow weapons strapped across their backs uselessly. "Why do I have such a bad feeling about this?" Ahsoka whispered doubtfully.

"Relax, Snips," Anakin muttered back covertly. "Keep to the plan."

"Not exactly relaxing situation," she muttered back.

Obi-Wan kept quiet. He knew Sabé, Rex, and Cody at least would do their part. It remained to be seen if Chirrut was reliable, though. As they approached Grievous, he noted the large intricately designed metal hatch in the floor—one of the tunnel secret entrances, just where Chirrut had said it would be. Catching Ahsoka's eye, he checked to see that she saw it, too. She did, and gave the smallest nod.

"Ah, _welcome_ ," Grievous said in his growling, synthesized voice as they stood about fifteen feet opposite of him. He coughed briefly before launching into gloating. "How kind of three famous commanders of the grand Republic Army to make an appearance. It's more than I could have hoped for!" He set his eyes on Anakin, who until this day, he had never personally encountered. "General Skywalker, I was expecting someone with your reputation to be… older."

Anakin smirked. "General Grievous. You're shorter than I thought you'd be."

Grievous didn't seem to like that. "Jedi _scum_."

"You're one to talk, Grievous, you're outnumbered," Ahsoka declared boldly, her youthful voice ringing. "Surrender now."

Grievous turned his sights to her—he dwarfed her in height and brawn alike. "Ahsoka Tano," he purred, "I look forward to adding your lightsabers to my collection." She scowled at him as he chuckled and coughed simultaneously. "You _fools_. Today the Republic suffers a blow beyond comprehension as three of its most cherished leaders… die."

Obi-Wan was genuinely curious. "Don't the odds seem stacked against you, General?"

If Grievous had a face at all anymore instead of the ghoulish metal mask, Obi-Wan imagined he might be smiling wickedly to match his tone. "I find the opposite, in fact."

A movement behind the altar drew gazes of all the Jedi to a small doorway they hadn't noticed—where out swept _Dooku_ , a superior smile on his old face. Even as Obi-Wan's shock registered—both at the sight of him and how he hadn't sensed anything—down from somewhere above the altar leapt a graceful and lithe figure that caused Obi-Wan's concern to triple: Asajj Ventress. Dooku's other commanding general. _This place has caused my senses to be too overwhelmed._

"It is time for the Republic to admit defeat," Dooku announced in a tone that dripped with grandeur and patronizing pleasure. "I imagine morale will be affected after the tragic losses incurred here today," he suggested ominously.

" _Pathetic_ ," Ventress sneered, her familiar and gaunt Dathomir face promising wrath. "You came running like rats to the feed… only to find your destruction at hand."

Obi-Wan regarded the other half of Dooku's command duo mildly. "Careful, Ventress. Pride goes before a fall."

Never one to be outdone, she needed to have the last word. "Talk to me about pride when you actually have something to be proud of," she spat back.

Dooku smiled placidly. "You've already lost, my friends," he said. "Surrender now, peacefully. I can promise you amnesty."

Anakin, who had been boiling in silent resentment at the ambush, finally spoke up. "A promise from you is worthless, Dooku," he growled. Obi-Wan could tell that his former apprentice was angry at this twist, but also imagining somehow they would be able to take down all three of the Confederacy leaders. Obi-Wan didn't hold such optimism, but it was too late to go back now. He quashed thoughts of worry over Sabé to protect her, fearing Dooku or Ventress might catch on if he allowed himself to think of her for more than a millisecond.

"Young Skywalker," Dooku said in a balance of disdain and arrogance. "So defiant. So sure of yourself."

Anakin's face was cool, and a knowing smile grew. "Yeah. It's almost like we know something you don't." He shrugged his robe off, and Obi-Wan and Ahsoka did the same—which was the signal.

Several things happened all at once, taking the tranquil scene into an all out firefight in a matter of seconds.

The first: A sudden high-powered blaster shot hit the top of the altar and rocked the entire sanctuary—part of the crystalline structure toppled down toward the three Separatist enemies, causing them to scatter to avoid being sliced or crushed. After successfully taking the diversion shot as she'd been instructed, Sabé, hidden in the shadows of one of the upper alcoves high above the floor, nodded sharp and fast across the way at Cody and Rex, who began to rappel down with the other six troopers—Cody staying put a fraction longer as he radioed for air support to deploy.

The second: the Guardians of the Whills' binding field generator was smashed to bits by Chirrut's staff in a precise, brutal motion from where he had silently snuck in. The group of warriors dropped to their feet and sprang into immediate action, rushing toward the altar to assist the Jedi and defend the Temple with their lightbows.

The third: Ahsoka jumped up nearly two stories up to the alcove where Sabé waited, and from there, stretched her hands out hard and concentrated all her willpower on using the Force to keep the tunnel access closed against the droid forces that were attempting to come out. The round grate shuddered as the droids pressed in and Ahsoka let out a harsh sound of concentration, warring to keep them at bay. Sabé kept providing cover fire, and it was working—Dooku, Ventress, and Grievous were being pressed back, and _fast._

But then Dooku's terrible glare came directly to Ahsoka and Sabé's position and he stretched a hand out, hurling lightning their way—and Ahsoka grabbed Sabé and leapt at the very last second—losing her grip on the tunnel access in favor of saving their lives.

The two of them crashed to the floor painfully to the side of the altar in a half-controlled fall, Sabé rolling to a stop and jumping up immediately in a defensive squat as she fired a spray of normal blaster rounds into the sudden outpouring of droids that were crawling out of the tunnel like a surge of ants. Ahsoka leapt in to help Anakin fight off Dooku and Grievous, even as Ventress and Obi-Wan remained locked in an acrobatic battle that was slowly moving away from the more chaotic area at the altar. The Guardians and the few clone troopers pressed in, attempting to prevent the droid takeover, but there were so many—and soon, the entire sanctuary was an all-out warzone.

Even through the thickness of the Temple walls, sounds of enormous machinery swooping through the air could be heard, the whine of engines shuddering the ground itself as Sabé crashed to find cover behind a cluster of crystals that grew out of the floor. She could hear fire being exchanged outside, and knew that Obi-Wan's theory of Separatist air attack had been right during their brief strategy meeting with Chirrut. They could only hope that Republic forces would draw that fight away from the city. Laserfire chipped away at the crystals Sabé hid behind, making her cringe hard and turn her head away for fear of being cut by the flying debris. That's when she caught sight of Dooku, out of breath, his age surely catching up with him, staggering back from the intense battle with Anakin, Ahsoka, and Grievous—and with a certain self-preserving look, he drifted back, then turned to flee out the door from which he'd entered.

 _Coward._ No one followed him, too locked in to their own battles. Overcome by a determination and a desperation not to let him get away, Sabé tensed, then jumped up into the laser-riddled air, sprinting after Dooku. She found a quieter hallway beyond the door he'd disappeared into—and he was striding away, his flowing cape giving testament to how quickly. She saw that he was about to reach a turn and disappear from sight completely. Heart pounding she reached into her pouch of detonators, activated the one her hand found by feel—she had noticed that something about this place seemed to overwhelm the Force sensitive or make them a little less aware. She hoped this worked. With all her strength she launched the small ball of escalating beeps his way. Dooku turned, sensing something happening, but he didn't react quick enough at all—and the detonator went off. A few feet closer and it would have probably killed him—but it still did damage. The explosion knocked him off his feet and Sabé ran forward to press the advantage, heart racing, mouth dry—but then skidded to a quick stop when several super battle droids appeared behind him from the place he'd been about to turn down. Their fists raised, and in a fraction of a second, they would fire on her. She caught sight of Dooku's shocked, half bloody, torn and mutilated face staring hatred at her even as she dived sideways into a small alcove in the hallway for cover as the laserfire began. She grabbed another thermal detonator and said her prayers, teeth gritted, then listened to the march of the droids in order to gauge when they were close enough but not _too_ close. They were slow, and the tension killed her. Finally, they sounded close enough, all of maybe ten seconds later. She activated the weapon with shaking fingers, then rolled it down the hall toward them, then cringed and tensed in anticipation of the blast, eyes shut hard.

It felt like the entire place would come down, that's how close to blast went off—but she was alive. Sabé stood up quickly, assessing the situation and finding that laserfire had stopped. She moved back into the hallway and looked over the smoldering ruins of droids—but Dooku was gone, and she could hear a ship's engines firing up just beyond sight. Anger and disappointment flared, but she didn't waste time going to watch him escape. Air support might shoot him down. The sanctuary battle still raged, and she needed to return.

She turned around then gasped in shock, coming chest-to-chest with Chirrut, whose face bore sooty grey blaster residue. "Do you know of the Chosen Ones, mother of light?" he asked her calmly, his tone not matching the situation. "The new way. It is coming," he promised in somber hope. "There is not _one_ Chosen. But _many_." Breathing hard with adrenaline and uncertainty alike, not sure if she should be alarmed or confused, Sabé edged away slightly. In the sanctuary close by, the sounds of battle still carried on. "In time, you will understand," Chirrut said cryptically, then reached into his robe from the top and front, pulling out a chain on which a gleaming yellow crystal shone. He yanked the necklace off, breaking it, and held it out to her. Sabé's eyes followed the crystal, her breath catching. Something in her immediately recognized or understood—even though she didn't recognize or understand at all. "I have carried it since I was fifteen, waiting to see you," Chirrut said solemnly. "Someday, it will be hers. For now, it is yours to carry. The Force _wills_ it."

"Y-you have the wrong person," Sabé stammered.

Chirrut took her strongly by the shoulder, leaning in closer to hold the crystal closer to her, insisting she take it. "You must _never_ give up," he said with so much conviction that even though she didn't know what he was talking about, she believed him. He found her hand somehow, despite being sightless, then pressed the crystal into her palm and closed her fingers over it with his other hand. "What is lost, shall be found again," he said intently. "Remember my words, in the years of desolation."

Sabé wordlessly gaped. He sounded insane—and she was fairly certain she would have already broken his hand if he were anyone else. But something about his words… something about _him_ and the feel of this crystal in her hand… terrified her with a feeling like certainty. Something whispered to her quieter than quiet that he was telling the truth. About what though, she wasn't sure.

"Don't stare, it's rude," Chirrut said, then gave an invigorated laugh that turned into a battlecry as he turned around toward a sudden influx of spindly battle droids. And together, given no choice, they faced down the enemy. Sabé shoved the crystal into a pocket even as Chirrut shouted over and over again: "The Force is with me, and I am with the Force! I fear nothing, for all is as the Force wills it!" His lightbow aimed precisely, taking down enemy after enemy, and he dodged laserbolts as if he could supernaturally hear or see the lasers coming his way. Sabé had re-taken cover in the alcove, using it to return fire without being hit—and when the last droid fell, Chirrut turned to her and bowed. "It has been an honor to fight at your side."

Still entirely too beside herself at his strangeness, Sabé gave him a wide berth and a, "yeah, great," as she ran back toward the sanctuary.

As she broke back into the grand space, she could see Ahsoka slicing a couple of battle droids down as Cody and Rex finished off a few other Separatist enemies. Broken crystals and fallen droids, plus a couple of trooper's bodies and one Guardian's littered the area. "The battle is moving into the city!" Ahsoka shouted at Sabé, already running toward the exit. Sabé followed, sprinting. She didn't see Anakin, Grievous, Obi-Wan, or Ventress anywhere.

When she burst back out into the outside world, she was momentarily dazed and had to hold a hand up to the brightness that stung her eyes. The airspace over Jedha was a web of Republic and Separatist forces engaged in dogfights—even as she looked up so briefly, a damaged Separatist fighter came whirling toward the city, smoke spiraling behind it and it crashed nearby, causing the ground to shudder and quake.

In the courtyard, now devoid of praying people, Ventress and Obi-Wan were engaged in a rapid series of dueling lightsaber blows—her two red sabers striking against his single blue in fury before they broke apart to circle each other—Obi-Wan looked like he was growing tired. And then he made the mistake of glancing at Sabé, his emotion plain on his face. Ventress noticed, and with a cruel smile on her face, blasted Obi-Wan away and into a stone wall that crumbled apart, even as she simultaneously leaped across the distance to land right in front of Sabé. "Hello, little girl," she said in a sultry, low voice.

It was instinct—useless instinct—but Sabé brought her blaster up to fire, only to be shoved upwards into the air at shocking speed by tremendous force—carelessly and brutally, like a ragdoll. Blindly, Sabé fired downward, and then Ventress slammed her into the side of the Temple hard, causing her to lose grip of her weapon as pain exploded throughout her limbs and a scream erupted from her lips. Sabé was slammed again and again by an invisible crushing grip about fifty feet up from the ground, the pain excruciating each time—her face hitting, her head, her limbs—then suddenly she was left to freefall into nothing, flailing weakly in a dazed state as the ground rushed toward her face. And then she saw Obi-Wan leap into the space beneath her and shove a hand upwards, stopping her fall and letting her harmlessly land in his arms just before she would have collided with the ground and met her death.

"How _touching_ ," Ventress sneered, getting up from from the ground below, perhaps twenty feet away where Obi-Wan had apparently knocked her back. "I _thought_ I sensed something off about you today, Kenobi." She laughed abruptly, seeming to enjoy the way he was horrified at Sabé's bloody face and barely-there consciousness. Sagging in his arms, Sabé struggled to breathe against what was certainly broken ribs. Pain on her behalf washed his face pale and tight. Then he looked at Ventress, a terrible and wrathful expression on his face.

"This is why attachment is forbidden," Ventress hissed. "Because the pain when you can lose something besides yourself… is beyond what any weak Jedi fool can _handle_!" She seemed enraged. "A lesson you shall learn today!"

Obi-Wan gently set Sabé down to lay on the ground slackly behind himself, then stood to face Ventress, bristling—and the anger inside of him was dark, vast, and present. The last time he had felt this… was when he had seen Qui-Gon fall at the hand of the Sith on Naboo. Ventress laughed, taunting him, enjoying his distress. "Look, Kenobi! You have _lost_!" She gestured above, where another Republic fighter had taken a lethal hit and began to plummet toward the city, engulfed in flames. And that's when Obi-Wan acted, a decisiveness coursing through his veins almost beyond his control. He threw his arms out—one hand toward Ventress, the other one toward the falling fighter ship—and with a groan that turned into a shout of effort and concentration, he pulled that flaming ship to the ground even faster on a direct path toward Ventress—who found herself unable to move—and her suddenly wide, afraid eyes flew to look at him in shock, just as he smashed the entire fighter into her and simultaneously threw himself down to shield Sabé. He held a hand up to push debris and wreckage away.

A plume of dust caused him to cough, and Sabé moaned softly. "I need a medical transport down to my coordinates, _now_ ," Obi-Wan said into his comlink, then lifted his head. Not too far off, Anakin and Ahsoka stood together, wordlessly looking at him in stunned apprehension.

Feeling caught, knowing that such a display of power could be attributed to unseemly things… Obi-Wan could only tear one hoarse question from his throat. "Where is Grievous?"

Anakin replied, his expression hooded. "He ran away."

Obi-Wan looked skyward. The droid forces Grievous had hidden in the tunnels hadn't been as many as they'd thought, and were all but taken care of. The fight overhead between fighter ships looked like it was about to wind down too. A brief but brutal battle with a victory he could not celebrate in good conscious—he looked at the flaming ruins of the ship a mere twenty feet off, underneath which Ventress had died. It had needed to be done, of course it had. But in that exact way? He wasn't sure.

He set his attention to checking on Sabé as Anakin and Ahsoka called their troops to assemble nearby. Sabé was hardly recognizable for how beaten her face was, and it made him hurt on her behalf. When her bruised fingers reached into a pocket on her side, drawing out a chain with a yellow crystal on it, Obi-Wan followed the motion with confusion. She seemed surprised and intrigued, weakly observing: "It survived."

"Where did you get that?" Obi-Wan asked, feeling an immediate interest and draw to the energy of this particular crystal.

Sabé looked at it in similar fascination, letting it dangle and watching it spin slightly until it found stillness. "Chirrut gave it to me," she rasped. "I—I don't know what it's for."

"It's a yellow Kyber crystal. Very rare." Obi-Wan touched it just briefly, and a sudden vision came over him, startling him. He pulled his fingers back as if stung. Surprised, he blinked a couple of times. "For a moment I thought I saw…" Obi-Wan couldn't take his eyes off the crystal. Sabé looked at him, breathing shallowly and waiting to hear. "A glimpse of the future," he murmured. "A feeling, more than a sight." Sabé had been there in the heartbeat of a vision—and so had someone else. Someone else he didn't know yet—but someone who he instinctively knew was very special indeed. Convicted, Obi-Wan sought her gaze. "Hold onto this," he said intently, understanding that the crystal was something incredibly important.

She nodded, and he once again took in her condition with great pain. "I'm so sorry you're hurt like this," he said softly.

It was somehow made him feel worse when she asked him about _his_ condition. "Obi-Wan… are you all right?" She could tell he was struggling with something besides seeing her injuries.

And with a grim shame, he admitted the truth. "I… touched the Dark Side today." Her face showed shock and the beginnings of fear. Obi-Wan nodded, swallowing thickly. "I've never told anyone this… but I touched the Dark Side the day Qui-Gon died, too." His confession made her mouth come open slightly. But whatever questions or comments she had, remained unspoken. The medical transport arrived, and it was time to get Sabé off the moon and to the flagship.

"Take good care of her," were the words Obi-Wan left the transporters with after Sabé was put onto a gurney. He put his hand briefly over hers where it laid at her side, then was forced to let the touch go when the troopers moved her onto the transport.

Obi-Wan looked to his side, sensing something. Anakin, a few yards off, was watching—and had seen. Neither said anything. They just exchanged a long tense look, then returned to their business at hand.

* * *

The battle above cleared soon, with Republic forces driving the limping Confederacy away and giving chase. A squad of troopers cleared the tunnels of any remaining threats, and the Jedi commanders remained on the moon as long as possible into the hours of dusk.

Anakin and Ahsoka approached Chirrut, who sat on the Temple steps. Not far from him, a silent and watchful burly man—another Guardian—skulked with his lightbow. "How are your people, Chirrut?" Ahsoka asked kindly.

Chirrut nodded once in acknowledgement. "We are all here except one. We will mourn him, but give thanks that he is now one with all."

Anakin smiled softly. "Chirrut, thank you. For everything."

Chirrut stiffened. "Beware the dark invader."

Anakin balked. "Huh?"

The Guardian shot up to his feet. "Beware!" Chirrut repeated at an impassioned near-shout, and he used his staff to stamp into the ground with each word he said. "The dark invader!" He stood there, not moving for a long few seconds. "Soon, all things will change." He seemed to catch a scent in the air almost. "I sense…"

Ahsoka remained intrigued, while Anakin looked supremely doubtful and a little wary. "What? What do you sense?"

Chirrut seemed peaceful again. "The will of the Force. The new things to come. Some terrible. And others wonderful beyond comprehension." He bowed to them respectfully. "Go with the Force, my friends. We will not meet again." And then he turned and walked up the Temple steps, leaving them to watch after the strange man in mutual confusion and wonder.

"That guy is… a little odd," Anakin observed, unable to shake the strange feeling Chirrut gave him.

"I dunno, I think he's kind of cool," Ahsoka replied impishly.

Anakin barely heard her reply. He was busy looking across the courtyard at Obi-Wan, who was speaking with Cody and Rex. Something like bitterness welled up inside of him briefly. Bitterness and suspicion. That show of power today—so beyond anything Anakin had ever seen Obi-Wan do. And then there was the matter of Sabé. Anakin had known his Master's feelings toward her, or had a good enough idea, since the events of Kijimi. It was exceedingly obvious in the way Obi-Wan displayed so much gentleness and preference toward Sabé, the ease he clearly felt being around her, the way his mood shifted when she was around, the way his Force signature changed when she was near him. In another world, maybe Anakin would have been happy for the other Jedi but…

Anakin thought with some sourness about how Padmé had been taken aside by Obi-Wan right after Geonosis and told to end their relationship. When Anakin had found out about that, it had angered him deeply and made him feel betrayed. Now to see that the great, revered Master Kenobi was perhaps just as 'hypocritical' as Anakin was… and keeping it a secret… that presented some very difficult feelings indeed.


	32. Fraying Allegiances

It had been nine days since Obi-Wan put Sabé on that gurney. He hadn't seen her since—once he'd made it back to the cruiser, she was already gone, taken back to Coruscant for medical treatment. From there, the fleet had been sent straight from Jedha to Colla IV where Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Ahsoka had remained locked in an exhausting eight day battle against the Separatists.

Back on Coruscant and wearier for it all, Obi-Wan hurried down the carpeted hall of the RDI sanctioned apartments, heading for the familiar unit H-81. He couldn't catch sight of the familiar doorway soon enough. It was late into the night or early in the morning local time—he wasn't entirely sure which, and he was a little wet from the rain he'd jogged through between the shuttle and the apartment building entrance. He and Sabé had unfortunately had very limited contact during the last nine days and the wizened Jedi was dealing with guilt and stress over that. It was difficult to accept that he'd been completely absent from being with the woman he loved throughout recovery from the worst injuries he'd seen her sustain. War had a way of corroding inner strength. And right now, Obi-Wan felt worn down completely.

Anxious to see her and verify she was as fine as her messages had insisted, Obi-Wan rounded the last corner before he'd come to her door. He was expected, and she said she'd wait up. When he arrived, the door opened readily at the touch of his hand to the panel—Sabé had programmed his face ID and handprint into the control months ago.

The second he saw her, he could relax again. He found her asleep with the lights on and sitting up, facedown over the small kitchen table over a pile of datapads—the incredible amount of paperwork she'd mentioned to him earlier. She was wearing a predictable jumpsuit—working nonstop, no doubt. She stirred immediately, a light sleeper, and lifted her head, a confused and disoriented squint on her face. It had an adorable effect, and as the door slid closed behind Obi-Wan, her eyes cleared and a beautiful smile leapt onto her face. "Obi-Wan!" She got up even as he met her halfway and they crashed into a close embrace. Her arms tightened around him even more and he breathed her comforting scent in as she whispered, "I'm so glad to see you."

The feeling was very mutual. In fact, so much so that a strong sweep of unexpected emotion hit him—a wave built from everything he was holding inside about the war, about being apart, about his doubts over his own future and self. "I've missed you so much," he whispered in return, voice gaunt with everything he was holding back. He held her closer for it, then pulled away, needing to study her more closely. She looked almost totally normal save for a slight remaining mark across the length of her cheek. "Being apart from you has been especially difficult these last nine days," he confessed, his eyes tracing that place where the wound had been as one of his hands came up to touch the side of her face and head. "I've been so worried."

She touched his wrist. "Me too," she said, implying about him. Her morale seemed better than his. Tired yes. Defeated, no. "I'm fine. Nothing a little—well, a lot—of bacta couldn't fix."

It was good to see her in good spirits. Still. Obi-Wan knew his guilt carried through in his tone. "I wish I could have been at your side."

Sabé took his face in both hands, her touch loving. "You are now," she said, and gave him a chaste, sweet kiss that lingered and made him sigh as he relaxed further into the comfort of her presence. Then, chuckling, she pulled away and shook her head at him, eyes scanning over the entirety of his head, face, then body. "You're all wet." He smiled offhandedly, almost joking about the obviousness of her comment. But he was too momentarily content to just be home again. Sabé jerked her head toward the closet, where he now kept a couple of spare changes of clothes. "Come on, let's get you dried off."

After Obi-Wan removed his boots, toweled off his hair, and switched to a dry pants and undershirt combination, Sabé re-emerged from the bathroom in sleep shorts and a long sleeved sleep tunic. Not for the first time, Obi-Wan thought about how he was one of the only people who saw her in such a casual, intimate state. It felt like a special privilege, and reminded him of how deep their bond went. He sat on the end of the bed, apprehensively willing himself to bring up another thing that had plagued him the past nine days. As she dimmed the lights, he found his courage. "I was afraid you'd… you'd think badly of me after my last words to you."

She paused, seeming to be surprised by that as she studied him from across the now dim room. "About touching the Dark Side? No."

Not the answer he'd been expecting. "It should worry you greatly," he said in confusion. "I thought it _did_."

She came over to him, visibly sensitive to his mood. "What I was worried about then and what I'm worried about now is your wellbeing," she said gently, standing between his knees and stroking the hair on the back of his head slowly. "I could see how upset it made you to tell me what you did." Obi-Wan almost could have laughed at himself when she said that. And to think that for nine days he'd been fretting that she was judging him or reconsidering her feelings for him because of what he'd admitted. He'd misunderstood her reaction completely. Sabé gave a wistful little sigh. "I don't know about these things like a Jedi would," she said apologetically. "Like a Force user would. I'm probably not the best person to go to about it, I guess."

Obi-Wan could take her point, but he didn't have plans to tell anyone else. Probably ever. It felt like his cross to bear. "I've never told another Jedi because I know what they'd say. The way they would start to look at me differently," he said. He was so glad she apparently didn't view him in another way now. But he did also wish that he could make her understand how terrifying the moment he'd killed Ventress had been for him. "Sabé, the Dark Side is powerful. And dangerous."

She was thoughtful and shrewd, listening but also thinking. They'd had a few conversations about the Force, enough that they both knew she wasn't ignorant to what it was nor the role it played for a Jedi. "Does it call to you?" she asked. "Do you feel tempted to go that way?"

He considered. "I don't. No."

"And did you _enjoy_ killing her?"

He didn't have to think his answer over in that instance. "No. I never enjoy taking a life. I only felt that I needed to, and by any means necessary." The threat of Ventress had been great to the Republic at large. But when the threat of Ventress had been directly to Sabé… Obi-Wan's motivations had become personal. That was what bothered him the most. He'd never been close to being able to defeat Ventress until the fear of losing Sabé had driven him to touch a power he'd only once accessed before.

Sabé's expression was empathetic and mildly sad. "You're _good_ , Obi-Wan. Nothing can change that. Not the Dark Side. Not this war. Nothing about you is selfish or inconsiderate or even close to evil." She really believed that, which made him feel all the guiltier. When his gaze faltered away, she touched the cool skin of her palm to his cheek and gently brought his face to turn in her direction. His eyes met hers hesitantly. "If _touching_ the Dark Side for just a moment meant you've now taken down two of the most terrible enemies you've ever faced… I can't hold that against you," she said. "And you shouldn't hold it against yourself, either. You didn't… go dark. You… were in a moment of darkness. I think that's a very human trait."

When she put it that way… it almost made sense. It could almost be excusable. _Almost._ "It seems much simpler from that perspective," he admitted, and wished he could let himself think that way. However, going against what he'd been taught his whole life felt incredibly wrong. "I don't think the Order would agree," he said wistfully. _But_ … Qui-Gon probably would have. A thought that gave him great pause.

"You're being very hard on yourself about this," Sabé observed with empathetic melancholy, sitting down beside him now.

"I couldn't prevent you from being hurt," Obi-Wan said miserably, the worst thing of all. He looked at her sidelong, feeling like a helpless child for a moment. "And I was afraid."

She nodded, accepting his statements somberly. "I'm afraid too. This war and everything about it is terrifying." She touched his back soothingly.

He found a heartening smile on his face. Nothing would fix this problem or make it go away, but he did feel better just being near her and knowing she was 'on his side' so to speak. "Thank you for this conversation," he said, able to relax a little more in each passing moment. "It has set me a little more at ease." He put an arm out to pull her closer into his side. "I think seeing you has something to do with it too."

Sabé put her head on his shoulder, an action that always touched his heart in the deepest places. Her hand found his, threading fingers through, and he leaned his head down, his cheek pressing into her hair. "I'm ready for the days when we get to see each other a little more than we do now," she whispered.

Words that his heart ached to. "Me too," he murmured, closing his eyes briefly and savoring the closeness they shared. "Tell me about your week," he entreated after a moment. "I feel like we haven't spoken in years."

Sabé shook her head 'no' against him faintly. "Just more of the same," she said in a weary tone. "Endless intelligence reports and meetings and paperwork." She lifted her head and looked at him again, then indicated the bed. "Lay with me?"

They got into bed, settling into a comfortable and close place together. "When do you have to be up?" Obi-Wan asked, tracing hairs out of her face, seeing how utterly exhausted she was.

She yawned then, a testament to her sleepiness. "An hour and a half." She fidgeted then, grimacing and fishing out an object from under her shirt that appeared to be bothering her. Obi-Wan was surprised to see it was the yellow Kyber crystal that Chirrut had given her.

"You're wearing it," he observed softly.

Sabé looked down at it briefly. Small and oblong, the crystal glinted even in the low light. "I have this feeling," she said softly, almost reverently. "Like I'm supposed to keep this safe." She looked at him and seemed to be a little sheepish about her feeling, or unsure what to make of it. Again, Obi-Wan reached out to touch it. "Do you sense anything?" Sabé asked, watching him closely as his brow furrowed and he turned the crystal between this pointer, middle, and thumb.

Yes. He certainly did. He felt a certain sort of optimism and peace as the briefest sound of laughter floated in his head. "Hope. Strength." His voice faltered as a feeling of heartbreak shot through him—soul scorching loneliness. "Sadness— _loss_." He heard a female voice he didn't recognize say the words he repeated in tandem next: "Light. Dark. A balance." A series of disconnected images flew through his mind, none of them making sense or bearing much clarity—all of them leaving him confused, overwhelmed, uncertain, almost stung. He let go of the crystal.

"Obi-Wan, what is it?" Sabé asked, seeing his reaction.

He shook his head slowly, not even sure himself. "I sense terrible things ahead. Terrible things."

Concern made her face tense. "What things?"

Again, he could only shake his head. "I'm not sure." But it made him want to hold her closer and tighter. So he did.

* * *

**A Few Weeks Later**

Anakin Skywalker was boiling in painful emotion: pain—anger—despair. Just at his feet, Obi-Wan's casket was slowly lowered into the cremation chamber. The type of bone-crushing sorrow he'd felt when his mother died was nowhere to be found… today he only felt rage. Obi-Wan had survived countless impossible scenarios only to be taken out by a punk bounty hunter for no reason… it wasn't right. It wasn't fair. And Anakin refused to accept this. Even if he _had_ seen Obi-Wan's lifeless body himself… it didn't seem real. At first he'd been lost in dismay and grief. Then, his feelings had begun to tell him that something here wasn't _right_. He looked up from under his lashes at those who attended the General's funeral. A handful of Jedi cohorts, Padmé, and… Sabé. Anakin's eyes narrowed at her as he began to observe her—the woman that Obi-Wan so obviously had feelings for. She wore an all-black grieving cape with the hood up—and her expression was appropriately stricken. But… something was missing. Padmé radiated sadness, inwardly and outwardly too. Sabé radiated sadness outwardly… but inwardly? Close to nothing. And the second the funeral had concluded and everyone began to leave the room, Anakin followed her.

She exited the mourning chamber and went down one of the grand main Temple hallways. Then hesitated, and went down a smaller one that connected into the meditation wing. Anakin lost sight of her briefly, then as he turned to follow her down the hall, he found her waiting for him, arms crossed, hood down. "Why are you following me?" she asked bluntly, giving away very little except that she didn't like being followed.

Ever since the beginning of the war, Anakin and Sabé had shared a friendly if distant relationship. But today, he had no friendliness to spare. Only suspicion. "What do you know?" he asked forcefully, absolutely convinced at this point that something was going on.

Her expression registered confusion. "Know? About _what_?"

"About _Obi-Wan_ ," Anakin accused, nearly trembling. "I may not know everything, but I know enough to understand you should be on your _knees_ with grief right now." He moved in closer, intimidatingly so, his eyes searching hers. "And you barely feel _anything_ right now."

She didn't budge. "Everyone processes their emotions differently, Skywalker."

Anakin wasn't convinced for even a second. "You're _hiding_ something," he insisted darkly.

"And _you're_ being inappropriate," she said—but was that a flash of guilt he saw and sensed? She didn't give him much chance to contemplate. "I'm sorry. I don't have anything to tell you." And with that, she brushed past him to continue on her way. Anakin turned to watch her go, absolutely convinced that he was right. Nothing about this fit! Nothing about this made sense. The fact that Sabé's Force signature gave off little to no emotion regarding Obi-Wan's death was too telling. If Obi-Wan were actually dead… Sabé would be struggling to hold herself together. Trying not to show the depths of her sadness. Left in a terrible and foul state of mind, Anakin stalked away, determined to search for answers in other places.

Not too long after, Anakin would find out that the Order and Obi-Wan had conspired to fake his own death for the purpose of infiltrating a group of bounty hunters who planned to harm the Chancellor. This plan the Order had come up with had _purposefully_ left Anakin out for the purpose of 'selling' the death. This of course enraged and betrayed Anakin immensely. He'd automatically known that Sabé had been made aware beforehand, which only added to his negative feelings. Obi-Wan made attempts to justify what was done and explain why Sabé had been told—saying he couldn't allow her to believe his death was real after the recent loss of her sister. All in all, Anakin walked away with yet another chip in his trust of the Jedi Order and of Obi-Wan.

Sabé wasn't the only one who had lost a family member.

* * *

**Almost Six Months Later**

The Outer Rim Sieges had come—and while some had imagined these sieges signaled the end of the war, it began to become a very drawn out last effort. It took most Jedi from the Temple completely and locked them into far away combat. Contact was sparse, and communications weak. Obi-Wan had now been gone for almost five long months. The separation from him was beyond difficult. Heartbreaking, even.

Sabé was tired. Worn down to her bones. Her life entirely consisted of long hours in RDI meetings, long hours in Council meetings, long hours keeping up her training, and snatched brief, tense meetings with the group. While there was progress happening with their plans to take down their corrupt government by revealing the truth to the public, it wasn't quick enough for her liking. The information they had amassed by now was lengthy and damning. They had obtained evidence of Palpatine being behind the clone army's creation, of illegal hedgefunds he'd managed and drawn from, of how he was spying on the Senate, of corruption within nearly every level of government all leading back to him or close to him. However, the group remained painfully aware that a 'nail in the coffin' piece of evidence was needed. That, and a way to broadcast the information to citizens without being cut off. It was headache after headache, and members of the group lived in paranoia of being discovered. Every meeting with Isard was a test of Sabé's ability to swallow down the feelings of revulsion and fear he caused her. Sometimes, she idly thought about how easy it would be to shoot him during one of those meetings with all the higher ups of RDI. Someday, she vowed to see justice served.

Her morning alarm started going off. Already awake, Sabé rolled over and cut the alarm off immediately. Her silent, empty apartment loomed, and she didn't want to leave bed. She felt incredibly lonely, overworked, and depressed. _I really need to take Padmé up on that lunch offer I keep pushing back_. Checking her comlink for any new messages, Sabé saw that there were none. Communications from Obi-Wan were infrequent now, and that was difficult to manage. A lump of sadness rose in her throat and surprised and angry, Sabé swallowed it away. _No. I am not going to become that person_. She had to stay strong. She had to believe the end of all this was close. That any day could be _the_ day. But it was easy to lose hope and feel alone in a way that crushed her soul.

It wasn't just Obi-Wan being gone that tore her apart. While the immediate wound of losing her sister was now gone—it had been almost a year now since she passed—a constant ache remained for a world that had been lost. There were no more bright visits from the ever-optimistic and compassionate ray of sunshine known as Zana. No more birthday celebrations between the two of them. No more remembering their parents together. No more talk about vacations they would take, no more heart-to-hearts, no reminiscing about the old times they'd shared. It was a loss that kept revealing itself over and over. A wound that never truly would heal.

Sabé toyed with the Kyber crystal around her neck. While Obi-Wan always seemed to take conflicted feelings away from the object, Sabé only ever felt a sense of peace when she touched the golden yellow crystal. And right now, she needed peace very much. Knowing she needed to get up and face another day, Sabé willed herself to move. But didn't yet. Her constant fear was that Obi-Wan would be killed. Being one of the first in line to see new intelligence was a small comfort. If he _did_ die, she would be one of the first to know. Was that a positive, or a negative? She didn't know. She just couldn't bear to lose the man who had become the most significant person in her life. That would be a final blow she couldn't come back from. Which was why she had to believe with ever fiber of her being that victory was at hand. That there was a future worth working toward. And that they would be together again sometime very soon.

Her comlink pinged just then and Sabé hurriedly grabbed it, hoping against hope. A name that mystified her was on the readout. Frowning at the cryptic message, she considered. Then got up to start the day.

* * *

**Later That Day**

Sabé was ushered into the Alderaanian Senator's apartment by his protocol droid, where the dashing and familiar man waited, seeming eager to see her. "Senator Organa, I came as soon as I could," Sabé said, curious about what the call was for. Mid afternoon now, she only had a little time before she had to report for her next duty.

Bail's apartment reminded Sabé of Padmé's in style, decor, and overall design. It did feel a little smaller and more functional though. He'd come to meet her just short of the lounge and he clasped her hands warmly and briefly. "I know this must be a surprise, Agent. How have you been?" He indicated she have a seat. "I haven't seen you since we thwarted that Senate bombing threat fiasco."

Sabé didn't sit down, only fixed him with a close look and knowing smile. While that _was_ quite the memory, she knew he hadn't hailed her just to reminisce. "Pleasantries aren't my forte, Bail." She folded her arms, remaining pleasant but assertive. "What's going on?"

He nodded, as if saying to himself he had known to expect that reaction. "I need your help, Sabé," he revealed, intriguing her. "Myself, along with… a few others in the Senate… are beginning to have certain suspicions." He hesitated, catching her eye meaningfully. "About the Supreme Chancellor."

Inwardly, her heart leapt. Outwardly, she blinked once. "What suspicions?"

Bail looked at her carefully. "The same ones I think you hold, too." He went over to the floor-to-ceiling window that the lounge was set against thoughtfully. "You and I have worked together three times now over the course of the clone wars and with Padmé and Obi-Wan's word on your character, I felt safe enough to approach you with a very grave request." He turned to look at her with grim seriousness, and Sabé listened closely, aware that something of great significance was about to be shared. "If you're ever privvy to any sort of intelligence or opportunities that would lend themselves to… _discredit_ … the Supreme Chancellor's office, we want you to know that you could come to us with the information and we'd put it to good use."

 _Us_? Sabé tilted her head slightly to the side. Was there another group out there besides the one she was in? "Senator Organa, are implying what I think you are?" she asked carefully. For the first time in a long time, she felt a rise of hope and awe. If Bail was part of some sort of anti-Palpatine Senators group, this could be extremely useful and significant.

"That depends on several different things, Lady Sabé," Bail replied, clasping his hands and strolling over leisurely. "I know you believe in the Republic just as much as I do. And I'm afraid the war has distracted us all from some very alarming facts. We have come to believe that the Supreme Chancellor is using this war to distract the galaxy from what looks to be a grab for ultimate power." He remained intent. "I cannot understate the danger."

Sabé had to choose her words very carefully here. "I agree with you more than I can say," she admitted, wishing she could share exactly how good this news was to hear.

Bail looked pleased and hopeful. "So you'll help us!"

Sabé held up a staying hand, warning him not to get ahead of himself. "Give me a day or two. I need to… check on certain things."

A curious look came from the Senator. "What certain things?"

Studying him closely, thinking over their interactions and how trustworthy she did judge him to be, Sabé gave him a vague answer. Without agreement from the group, no moves were ever made. No alliances forged. "There may be others, Senator Organa," she alluded. "Others who think the same as you do and are ready to unite with those likeminded."

A broad smile spread on the man's face as he took her meaning and Bail nodded, bright eyed. "I knew reaching out to you wouldn't go unrewarded," he said, then drew in a deep breath to steel himself for patience. "Well, in this case, I'll wait eagerly for your next communication." Sabé smiled politely, and that was when Bail looked at her more closely. "…Are you all right, Sabé?" he asked in genuine concern.

Disappointed in how transparent she was, Sabé could only admit he was right. "Tired. War is a very lonely time."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Obi-Wan faking his death bit is a nod to Clone Wars season 4 Deception. A very interesting episode arc indeed!


	33. Shortening Fuse

Inside an lower-level diner that had seen better days and surely not passed any health inspection for years, the group huddled over a back table away from the few other daring patrons

"I think it's a good idea," Leda Voth insisted, her eyes flickering over the present few: Sabé, Braxis, Daggoth, and Jego. Rett was still not included in their meetings. "We need as many allies as we can amass," the Twi'Lek said. "And we don't have any direct Senator ties yet. This could be _exactly_ what we've been waiting for."

Braxis pursed his lips and sat back with an unconvinced frown. "I still don't know."

"We can't keep doing things the same way forever, Braxis, or we'll never have the breakthrough we so desperately need," Jego argued.

"The time to strike is getting closer and closer" Daggoth added in gravely, his eyes on the reluctant Braxis. "We need all the numbers we can get."

"I have fifty contacts within the media connections I maintain who are loyalists, but that's only _one_ side of the coin we need," Jego reminded, also looking at Braxis.

"And I've found allies within the department of transportation, education, and justice," Daggoth went on, "but the Senate is a necessary piece of the puzzle." He paused then looked at Sabé meaningfully. "And the Jedi Order too, when the time is right."

Sabé nodded as a silence fell. Everyone but Braxis was in agreement that forging an alliance with Bail and whatever other Senators he had on his side was the right move. Yes, it was always a risk to bring new people in and enlarge the circle of those who knew about the group. But there were ways to minimize risk. "We can trust Bail," Sabé said confidently. "And whoever he trusts, I trust too." After working with him three times during the Clone Wars thus far, she knew he was a good man—sometimes woefully naive to the system in place, but it seemed he was waking up. Padmé trusted him too. "I think it's time," she said. "We'll explore the partnership cautiously, of course."

Braxis still looked like he had his reservations, but he was nodding reluctantly, giving in by all appearances. "Good. So do we all agree?" Daggoth asked, raising two fingers in standard vote of 'aye.' Everyone else raised two fingers, with Braxis being the last to do so. Daggoth nodded, and looked at Sabé significantly. "So it is agreed."

She nodded. This was anxiety-inducing and exciting at both fronts. "I'll investigate his group and make him aware of ours. Then we can go from there."

As everyone else nodded, Braxis pulled out a small audio playing device. "Okay, second item on today's agenda." He slid the device forward to the center of the table and glanced around, then pulled out enough privacy earbuds for everyone to listen without being overheard. "You're gonna want to hear this audio I got from Isard's office last night. He had a very interesting conversation with someone."

Sabé's heart skipped slightly—she'd successfully managed to plant a micro listening device in Isard's office after he recently removed audio/video monitoring from both his offices and many offices of his directors. It had been done quietly, and the group was only aware when their feed hacks had gone blank and quiet. "Who was it with?" Sabé asked as she tilted her head to put in the first earbud.

Braxis shook his head and shrugged. "Unclear."

The group all listened to a brief audio clip—parts of which were indistinct or muffled or too quiet to make out. Someone with a fine aristocratic sounding accent and Isard's recognizable low growling voice traded a conversation that seemed casual in nature. They first discussed their disdain for 'the simpletons of the galaxy' and then chuckled lowly, the unknown man commenting about how soon, 'the ultimate weapon' would dominate the 'new galactic order' and how this would put the 'leeches in their place.' Isard had laughed easily and said the day couldn't come soon enough, then asked how construction was going. The unknown man had replied 'dreadfully slow,' then had received a hail and asked if Isard would like to accompany him on a 'special virtual tour,' at his office. The audio ended there.

Needless to say, hearing this clip was disturbing. "They're getting bolder," Daggoth said heavily, shaking his head. Fear showed on the Bothan's wizened face—a sentiment Sabé had never seen there before.

"'Ultimate weapon'? The 'new order'?" Jego asked slowly, horror low in his voice too. "Something big is coming."

"Yes," Leda said soberly, her voice soft with dread. "And soon."

"But what?" Braxis asked, clearly frustrated.

Sabé clenched her jaw. The stakes were getting higher. The crescendo seemed to be growing near. And they _still_ didn't have a way to intervene that would affect real change against whatever Palpatine's ultimate plan here was. "We need to find a way to get ahead of this," she said. " _Now_."

* * *

**One Day Later**

During the mid-morning hour, Padmé's apartment played meeting place to a small group of carefully selected, influential senators. Fang Zar, Mon Mothma, Terr Taneel, and Giddean Danu were there in addition to Padmé and Bail. While Sabé was not the most expert authority on the Senate or its members, she did recognize right away that these were some of the Delegation of 2,000—a recent petition signed by two thousand Senators which had formally protested Palpatine's actions and demanded he return to the Senate the emergency powers he had claimed. So far, nothing had come from the petition. Only Palpatine making more excuses and holding onto his powers all the tighter.

"Well, it's good to see you all here today," Bail opened with, standing between the two couches which faced each other in Padmé's lounge. He indicated Sabé, who had drawn some curious looks already. "I'd like to introduce those of you who don't know her already to Agent Sabé Nebira. She and I have worked together during the Clone Wars, and she served Naboo and Padmé for years as well. She works as Jedi Council liaison with the Republic Department of Intelligence. I trust her implicitly, and her presence will make sense shortly." Bail clasped his hands and strolled the length between the two couches somberly. "I've called you all here today because, yet again, Palpatine has acted in a way that strikes me as ominous." He turned, reaching the end of the couches. "He's appointed new governors he calls Moffs to oversee all star systems in the Republic—and he's made this change without a single vote!"

Padmé frowned. "When did this happen?"

Bail was cynical. "Well that decree was posting this morning—quietly, of course. The press didn't report it."

"This is madness," Senator Danu said tightly. A dark-skinned human male, he had an elegant and refined air to him. "The Constitution is in shreds! Amendment after amendment, and we're powerless to stop it."

"I agree," Bail said. "We cannot let a thousand years of democracy disappear without a fight."

Senator Taneel, a pale woman with unnaturally red hair, frowned. "What are you suggesting?" she asked. "That we join the Separatists? That we wage a new war against our Republic?"

Mon Mothma, a fair woman with ginger hair, replied in her famously quiet, gentle way. "No, not at all. We are not Separatists trying to leave the Republic. We are loyalists, trying to preserve democracy in the Republic."

Padmé was extremely vexed. "Do you think he'll dismantle the Senate?"

Mothma didn't bat an eye. "Why bother? As a practical matter, the Senate no longer exists."

Padmé shook her head, aghast. "I can't believe it has come to this. Chancellor Palpatine is one of my oldest advisors—he served as my Ambassador when I was queen!"

"Senator, I fear you have underestimated the amount of corruption that has taken hold in the Senate," Senator Zar said heavily. He was a man with leathery skin and a wild beard.

Mothma agreed gravely. "The Chancellor has played to the senators well. They know where the power lies and they will do whatever it takes to have their share in it."

"And we cannot continue debating about this any longer." Bail said assertively, beginning to pace again. "We have decided to do what we can to stop it. In fact…" he stopped pacing and turned toward Sabé. "There are some of us who have been working to stop this long before any of us even realized what was at hand."

All eyes came to look at Sabé, who nodded a tense greeting. "Senators." She watched Bail take a seat and she wet her lips briefly. The danger of revealing what she was about to reveal was present—any one of these people could be reporting back to Palpatine. But she did trust that Bail had done as she had requested yesterday: that he bring only his most deeply trusted allies to this meeting. So she plunged ahead with the words she'd gone over in her head. "I first became aware something was off about three and a half years ago in my assignments. I got the specific feeling that an outside force was meddling with internal RDI affairs. I kept my thoughts to myself until right at the beginning of the war, which is when I became aware of what as of now only call The Group. We're an assembly of agents and others in various individuals in positions of government and media who have become convinced of one thing: Chancellor Palpatine has an agenda. And it is not a good one." Everyone was listening raptly—especially Padmé, who was visibly shocked to be learning that Sabé was not 'just' an agent. "We have come to believe that Chancellor Palpatine is behind _all_ of it," Sabé relayed grimly. "The war—both armies—all him. He's verifiably in control of the media, of RDI, of all government departments… and there's nowhere his hand doesn't seem to reach into. The only thing he _doesn't_ appear to have control over seems to be the Jedi Order—although we do have reason to believe he's attempting such a move by using his famously public relationship with Anakin Skywalker."

Sabé looked at Padmé during that last part—seeing very telling surprise and unrest cross the Senator's young, careworn face. Everyone present seemed taken aback by and perhaps vindicated to hear that their suspicions and instincts were not unfounded.

Senator Danu was the first to reply. "This is disturbing to hear. But I can't say surprising."

"This group… what action do you plan to take?" Senator Zar asked, fascinated and leaning forward with thoughtfully clasped hands.

"We are compiling evidence against Palpatine and his accomplices that the court of public opinion will find very compelling. The final stages are in motion now, but we still need something that irrefutably ties him into everything. His network of supporters and conspirators number in the thousands from what we can tell, maybe more. So if we're going to convince people, it has to be beyond reproach, it has to be something that can't be buried or written off. Without the truth being plainly revealed, people will stay locked into arbitrary debates—citizens need to see incontestable proof that their leadership is manipulating them and has been for years." Sabé was heartened to see how closely she was being listened to and how receptive and willing the Senators seemed to be. "What we need from you, Senators, is your pledge to be part of this alliance we're building," she said. "Any information you come into possession of, anything you see, any opportunities that you come across. The group can use it. That, and we need to be made aware of any others sympathetic to our cause. We want to know who they are so that we can unite together against this terrible threat."

Padmé studied Sabé with a dire expression that told all: she understood that there was no going back from this. And that today changed everything.

"Tell us more," Senator Danu entreated. And Sabé did.

* * *

About an hour later, Padmé and Sabé bid farewell to Bail, the last Senator to depart. Quite a lot of ground had been covered, and Sabé was feeling surprisingly optimistic and eager to relay what had occurred back to the group soon.

She and Padmé had moved down to the open-air veranda to see Bail off, and there Padmé turned to her old friend and addressed her in private for the first time that day. "Sabé," she said, her smile tired and empathetic and full of respect. "You truly make me proud to know you," she said, taking the other woman by the forearms gently as she studied her eyes deeply. "I find myself thinking back to when we were just queen and handmaiden," Padmé said wistfully. "It feels like another lifetime, doesn't it?"

Sabé knew what she meant and felt reminiscent somehow, too. "'Just' queen and handmaiden?" she joked, because nothing about that time of life had ever been 'just' anything. "But I do know what you mean," she conceded as Padmé smiled ruefully. "The invasion and fight for Naboo back then seem so simple in comparison to this web of darkness and lies."

Padmé let go and drifted over toward the lounge couch. "Yes, but we're doing our part. Just like we did then." Sabé didn't miss the way Padmé walked—it couldn't quite be called a waddle, but it couldn't be called her normal gait, either.

"It's an honor to serve with you in any capacity, Milady," Sabé said truthfully.

Padmé wearily looked up at Sabé from where she'd just taken a seat on the lounge while trying to mask her slight struggle to do so. "I'm just Padmé," she said, then patted the seat beside her. Sabé dutifully went and sat there, studying Padmé's worried profile. "What you said about Anakin…" Padmé looked at her friend in concern. "Do you mean to imply Anakin could be used as a pawn?"

"Anyone could be," Sabé said readily. "Chancellor Palpatine surrounds himself in multiple layers of mystery and protection. Not without reason."

Padmé processed uncomfortably. "He tricked us all," she said, her tone a mixture of angry and afraid. "I feel so foolish. In hindsight… it seems so clear. The way he's amassed his power… and he's still viewed as a hero by so many." She shook her head and her jaw tightened. "This is terrifying, Sabé… how did you hide what you knew all this time?"

Sabé heaved a charged, weighted sigh. "I didn't have any other choice." The long days and nights risking everything to obtain information that only pointed toward ominous outcomes were heavy on her shoulders. "It certainly hasn't been easy."

Padmé nodded understandingly, seeming incredibly compassionate. "I imagine not." She hesitated, then asked a question that made Sabé's breath catch. "Does… Obi-Wan know? About The Group?"

There was more to that question than the words themselves said. And Sabé felt caught. She wondered how long Padmé had known about her and Obi-Wan. But she didn't admit it outright. "No. Not yet." She stuck to facts. "We haven't involved the Order yet. Timing is everything. We've been exceedingly careful."

Nodding with a tense expression, Padmé thought over the reply. "That makes sense." She hesitated again. "The Outer Rim Sieges… I hear they're terrible." This was where Sabé realized Padmé was hedging. "Have… have you _heard_ from Obi-Wan?" the Senator asked, and Sabé tried to stay outwardly collected.

"Here and there," she said, then gave in a little, revealed herself. "Not nearly often enough." She tried to sound nonplussed. "Intelligence reports are so sporadic too. It's hard to have a handle on what's happening out there. On who's alive or dead or winning."

Padmé remained silent for a long moment. The second she spoke up again, Sabé knew what she was about to say. "I hope I'm not stepping out of bounds, but… you're more than friends, aren't you?" A question that caused the air to disappear from her lungs. Sabé looked at Padmé silently, her expression conflicted—guilty, upset, pained. Padmé was gentle. "I've seen the way he looks at you—the way you look at him," she explained. "Please don't misunderstand, I only ask because… I'm in the same predicament."

Sabé nodded faintly, revealing what she'd been aware of for some time, too. "I know."

And just like that, the truth was out, and both women fully understood each other beyond the assumptions and suspicions they'd both privately held. "How do you cope?" Padmé asked, sounding worlds apart from the confident and independent woman she portrayed to the public. "Some days I feel I can't _breathe_."

Sabé identified with those words so much that the urge to run away clenched her in a fist. She had serious difficulty discussing this with herself, let alone someone else. "I… feel the same way," she admitted in a gaunt whisper, then had to clear her throat and blink rapidly. "I just pray this war will be over soon. I can't take much more."

Padmé attempted some halfhearted humor. "I know things are serious if you're praying, Sabé."

Attempting a smile, Sabé let out an airy sound meant to be a laugh that fell short. "Figure of speech." She studied Padmé again, the first person who now knew about her and Obi-Wan—to whatever extent. Padmé had good instincts. She probably could fill in the gaps. "What will you do after the war? You and Anakin?"

Padmé looked unsettled anew. "I don't know. Certain things… will be unavoidable." She absently touched a hand toward her stomach. "I… may need to retire. All when the Republic needs me most," she said in slight bitterness, then pushed it aside to look at Sabé with tender curiosity. "You and Obi-Wan?"

Sabé thought of the lake house. Of the Jedi Order. Of RDI. Her heart hurt. She just wanted to know he was all right at this point. "It remains to be seen."

Sympathetic, Padmé nodded. "That's the most difficult part," she commiserated. "The Jedi Order is so set in their ways. They'll never allow what's happened." The two women looked at each other, perhaps in that moment both realizing that they had allies in each other all along. A warm, grateful smile passed between them, tinged by anxiety. Then Padmé touched a hand to the front of her dress. "I'm… I'm nearly eight months along now," she whispered, a certain fearfulness in her eyes.

"Oh, _Padm_ _é_ ," Sabé said compassionately, understanding how hard it must be. She had known, or had a very steep suspicion at the very least. While she and Padmé hadn't been able to regularly visit, they'd worked together a few times over the past few months and Sabé had noticed how Padmé refused alcohol and anything with stim in it and had taken to wearing dresses designed to camouflage her body. Dresses that seemed to grow more and more voluminous every month that passed. Even Padmé's face had taken on some changes… softening and swelling.

"It wasn't planned—I'm trying to be happy," Padmé admitted, her broken emotions near the surface. "But it's so hard. I just fear for what they'll put Anakin through. And how he'll take it if they find out before we tell them. _If_ we tell them." She sniffed as a tear ran down her cheek. She dashed it away quickly. "Anakin doesn't even know yet. I haven't been able to contact him in _months_. I didn't realize I was even pregnant until I was about three months along," she said, the picture of pain. "I don't know what I'm gonna do."

Sabé wished Padmé had told her sooner, and felt guilty for how much she'd been working. "You'll be brave. And strong. And compassionate," she said firmly, feeling her emotions stir at the thought of seeing her queen and friend and ally as a doting, loving mother. "Your child will have a wonderful mother," she said, feeling herself get unexpectedly teary-eyed.

Padmé smiled through her pain, touching her belly with both hands. "I love them so much already," she murmured.

Sabé's eyebrows rose as an astonished smile grew. "' _Them_ '?"

Padmé's brown eyes looked into hers, a precious secret warming them. "Twins," she whispered, a joy that not even all the surrounding circumstances could quell.

"Twins!" Sabé exclaimed softly, and Padmé reached for her hand to let it rest against the swell of her stomach. A soft kick could be felt and Sabé felt a sense of childlike wonder overtake her. Words escaped her. Only amazement and a sudden surge of hope for a future where these babies would be safe, loved, and cared for.

Just then, the sound of quick footsteps descending the stairs sounded, turning both women's heads. "Captain Typho, what is it?" Padmé asked, immediately seeing the man's alarmed expression. Even as he did that, Sabé glanced at her comlink, realizing she hadn't ever taken it off silent mode—quite the flood of emergency notifications were coming through. And when she saw their content, her stomach leapt, heart clenched, and adrenaline kicked in.

"Chancellor Palpatine's been kidnapped by General Grievous," Gregar said, his eyes darting between both women then landing on Padmé. "I'm putting you on lockdown, _now_." Padmé and Sabé stood up—and while Padmé went toward her captain of security, Sabé turned and headed straight for where her swoop bike was docked. "Where are you going?" Gregar asked, his voice rising a notch.

Sabé turned to look back at them, walking backwards, giving what she hoped was an encouraging nod. "Stay safe. Both of you." She didn't have time for more, and turned on her heel, almost at a run. She already knew that this would present the kind of opportunity The Group had been waiting for. If Palpatine wasn't in his office, the chaos of that would provide the perfect cover—to break into that office and plant audio and video devices and finally catch him red-handed. She kicked her bike into gear, snapped her flight goggles on, and made a call to Daggoth even as she plunged into a thread of traffic and raced back toward the heart of Core Square.


	34. Beginning of the End

Sabé crawled elbows and knees down the flat ventilation shaft corridor as fast and quiet as possible, sweating from the effort or maybe it was the nerves. She had her hair tied back tight and a tactical jumpsuit on complete with a domed helmet that concealed her identity. It was dark and extremely claustrophobia-inducing in the shaft, and she'd been cramped and crawling and hitting her unwieldy helmeted head for what felt like miles now.

"Okay now take a left, Firebird, then up ahead, you'll find the in-wall air vent," Braxis' tinny voice said in her earpiece. "Is Nerfherder keeping up?"

On edge, Sabé suppressed an eye roll—she was in no mood for jokes. "Everything's _fine_ ," she muttered impatiently. Rett was right behind her.

A second later, Rett's reply crackled through. "I still don't like my codename though."

The smirk was audible: "Quiet, Nerfherder; keep the line clear," came Braxis' retort.

Sabé shook her head and fully rolled her eyes. They never stopped. She turned left like Braxis had said and crawled forward a few more feet, finding the air vent exactly where it was supposed to be—she paused, double checking that their surveillance was right. The Supreme Chancellor's office was indeed empty, no movement visible in the immediate area or the hall beyond. Sabé pushed the vent cover forward, and when it popped off, she caught it and quietly set it aside, scrambling through the opening onto plush carpeting with Rett right behind her.

She stood slowly then remained softly frozen in place, her breath quickening as her adrenaline continued to spike. They had actually done it. Reminding herself this was just the first part of their hastily-created plan, Sabé nodded at Rett, who was dressed similarly to her in a helmet that concealed his identity. While they knew Palpatine had removed surveillance from his office around the same time that Isard had, they couldn't be too careful.

"How we doing, Lionsmane?" Sabé asked softly, stealing into the office and remaining watchful for any sign of a trap or danger.

"All clear," Daggoth's buttery reply came.

"And Sunflower?"

"All okay out here too," Leda said, her voice low and discreet.

"Okay," Sabé said tensely, pulling out the device Braxis had finally completed: a wireless transfer box that could lift information—no matter how encrypted—from any device it was set beside. Sabé turned it on and watched the display activate, then set it down onto Palpatine's desk near the tech console with a fast-beating heart. _I hope this works._ She pulled out the handful of micro cameras and listening devices that were ready to be planted, then looked straight at Rett. "You keep watch," she directed, her voice muffled through the helmet. Rett's face wasn't visible, but his stance changed at her words and Sabé held up a commanding finger against whatever protest he had in mind. "Do _not_ argue, we don't have time." And he didn't.

Covering her bases and choosing areas that were discreet but would give good angles and coverage, Sabé stuck the audio and video recording devices throughout Palpatine's office, lounge, and tech station areas as Rett stayed close and kept his eyes and ears peeled.

As soon as they'd all heard the news about their Supreme Chancellor's 'kidnapping,' the group had all had the same idea and dropped whatever they were doing to immediately connect in a hastily-held meeting. It had taken them a couple hours from first hearing the news to being here now, which Sabé didn't think was half bad for all the moving parts they were trying to manage or how long that airduct crawl had been (thirty two minutes by her chrono). With Braxis at RDI headquarters and guiding them through from the outside using schematics and feeds he had access to, Jego was their getaway man, waiting nearby with a speeder to collect them from where they'd entered externally. Daggoth and Leda were both nearby outside the Executive Building in two separate strategic spots to keep a watch out and distract if the need arose.

"Last one," Sabé breathed finally, and gently nudged an audio device into one of the strange pieces of art Palpatine seemed to fancy.

"Firebird, Nerfherder, come in!" came a sudden urgent hiss.

Sabé stopped, putting a hand up to the side of her helmet as if to press the earpiece in further. "Firebird here, what is it, Lionsmane?"

"Hide, _now_! One of the Red Guard on the exterior entrance is coming inside!"

Rett and Sabé both leaped into action—running back down into the part of the office they'd entered into. Sabé grabbed the airvent cover and put it back in place, then jumped behind the desk as Rett snatched up the transfer device off the top of Palpatine's console and dove to huddle with Sabé in breathless stillness.

Not even thirty seconds later, they could hear the tell-tale sounds of someone softly walking nearby and Sabé's hand slid down to silently grip onto a thigh-holstered blaster with a wildly hammering heart. Beside her, Rett remained frozen like a statue. They waited without moving a muscle for what felt like a mind-numbing, nerve-shattering eternity but was only about ten seconds in reality—then the guard retreated, and their footsteps faded away. About thirty seconds later, Braxis' voice thankfully came in. "You're clear," he said, "and I've got feeds from all the devices you placed. You need to go ahead and leave now, looks like you're gonna have company. The Red Guard is returning from wherever they disappeared to, I have eyes on their shuttle now." He turned incredibly cynical. "Bet they know something we don't."

Sabé took the info transfer box from Rett and squinted at the readout—it had transferred about thirty-percent so far. "We can complete the info port if I can have ten more minutes, HQ!" she argued in a whisper as she peered over the top of the desk in case he was wrong about the guard being gone.

"No, the whole group of guards will be back in _five_ ," Braxis insisted harshly, just as tense as she was. "Abort info port attempts _now_ , Firebird!"

To be so close but denied the full realization of the attempt was infuriating, but left without any choice, Sabé stuffed the device into her pocket and snatched the air vent off the wall, sending one final look around to make sure no signs remained of their presence. Then she and Rett went back the way they came, pulling the air vent cover back into place behind them as they began the slow, uncomfortable journey out. Just as they made it to the final stretch of air vent, notified Jego, then waited to see his speeder pull up underneath the downward-facing airvent exhaust, everything gave a gigantic rumbling shudder, like an earthquake had shook the core. Grabbing on—the drop down was hundreds of feet—Sabé and Rett looked at each other through their helmets. "What was _that_?" Sabé hissed into her headpiece.

"Felt it here too. Not sure. Stand by," Braxis said, even as Jego and his speeder appeared below.

"Ready!" Jego announced, and gave a signal for them to jump in.

"This was easier coming in then exiting," Rett muttered, then tensed to let himself jump. "Coming in, Brimstone," he said, then jumped. The speeder shuddered under the new weight, then stabilized.

Sabé hesitated, licking her lips nervously and hedging. Heights were not her thing. "Come _on_ , Firebird," Jego encouraged, clearly wanting to get gone as soon as possible.

She supposed there was no choice, and took in a deep breath, ignoring how small the features of buildings and traffic was below the speeder, then jumped, hitting the speeder feet first and falling sideways into the back seat as she held on for dear life. Already jetting off into obscurity, Jego gave a triumphant woop and Rett pulled his helmet off and grinned in disbelief. "We did it!" he said breathlessly.

Sabé pulled her helmet off too, blinking against the brightness and looking back from where they'd come—the vents were already tiny in comparison. Yes, they had. Hoping it hadn't been too easy for a reason, she grinned back at him and then Jego as she let herself believe maybe they'd just gotten the break they'd been waiting for so long. Unless the cameras were detected, they'd no doubt have some solid, incriminating evidence against Palpatine—and very soon.

"Okay so looks like some Jedi were sent in to rescue Palpatine and crashlanded Grievous' flagship in the process," Braxis said across the earpiece. "That's what that earthquake was."

Sabé considered, then she paused, suddenly wondering, suddenly _feeling_ something on a level she didn't often feel things. "What Jedi were sent in?" she asked, a fraction more soft and intent.

There was a pause. Then: "Incoming intel says... Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker."

Sabé's face lost all tension, and her heart jumped high and hard. _Obi-Wan._

* * *

After ditching their outfits and helmets in favor of different clothing, the group parted ways to go blend back into life again. Sabé had contacted Obi-Wan over text immediately after hearing the news from Braxis, hoping it was true. Obi-Wan had replied shortly after with a brief message: _Can you be at the Executive Building port in twenty minutes?_

With shaking hands she had replied yes, gave him a port number to meet at, and now waited in high anxiety on the upper level of the Republic Executive Building's docking area—famously less busy than the lower port. Curving around the rounded top of the enormous complex, grand open-air halls lined by enormous columns led the way in toward the central entry point. Sabé lurked near one of these enormous columns, far back enough to be inconspicuous and not immediately visibly from the sunlit port area ahead. She was so excited, nervous, and eager to see her Obi-Wan again that she felt like she might pass out or throw up. She almost couldn't believe it would really happen. After almost _half a year_ apart, she had to wonder what it would be like to see him again. Would she feel the same when she saw him? Would he feel the same when he saw her? Would the time apart make reconnecting difficult? Would it be awkward? Would anything have changed?

Shifting her weight foot-to-foot over and over again, trying to hold her increasing nervous energy inside, she craned her neck as every passing ship and shuttle made her heart soar high in anticipation—then whatever aircraft her eyes were on would keep going and Sabé would be lost in a sea of maddening anticipation all over again. She checked her wrist comlink for what felt like the twentieth time to see if any new communication had come in from him—and it hadn't. He said he'd be here in twenty minutes, twenty-two minutes ago. Sabé took in a deep breath and let it out noisily through a tiny pursed O shape her lips made. It had been bad enough to never know when she'd see him again, but now to know she was so close to seeing him again… it was making her feel absolutely insane. Every cell screamed to see his face again. And _now_.

"Where are you, where are you?" she muttered to herself, eager, keyed up eyes watching the arrivals and departures almost frantically.

* * *

After dropping Anakin off at the level below, sidestepping a public appearance, and managing to act as if he _wasn't_ two steps away from imploding internally, Obi-Wan took the Senate shuttle up one level and exited in an awkward leap, immediately starting forward toward the shaded area supported by columns, his eyes going everywhere all at once, trying to catch sight of the person he so badly needed to see again. His heart rate increased with anxiety when he didn't see her anywhere. It had been so long that he had trouble remembering the exact sound of her voice and the exact shape of her face. He couldn't lay eyes on her soon enough, and felt like he would burst if he didn't see her in the next few seconds. The bleakness of war had been made more manageable at the memory and hope of her. Every night before sleep, his last thought was always of her, his first waking thought the same—and in dreams, they'd been together. But knowing that he would _see_ her again someday had been the thing that had given him driving, paramount hope—some days the _only_ thing.

Obi-Wan continued forward—maybe she was behind one of the gigantic columns ahead? He went forward into the shadows of the grand rotunda, disappointment and anticipation alike crushing him when he still saw her nowhere. She said she would be here! And then without warning, he was given to utter, supernatural stillness. On the edge of his senses, like a lighthouse in the night, he _felt_ her clearly and unmistakably. The air went quiet, his mind grew silent, and his emotions paused, readying to leap over the precipice. In a dream that he was afraid to shatter, he turned slowly to look through the columns sidelong, where he saw her pacing about fifty feet away, her anxious gaze on the dock in front of herself. In a millisecond, Obi-Wan realized he'd landed at the wrong dock or she'd gone to the wrong one. It didn't matter. He felt every bit of stored up emotion that he'd put aside for those long five or six months come up within himself like a monsoon, and a soft, helpless sound of relief and sentiment came as his shoulders slumped with relief and his eyes pricked with tears. There she was. _It's been too long, my love._

* * *

Sabé paced, getting more and more restless. The emotional pressure was mounting. _Obi-Wan, where are you?_ she wondered yet again, about to hail him outright, everything else be damned. And then she heard him as clearly as if he were right beside her: _It's been too long, my love_. She stopped moving the second she heard that voice inside of her mind, and everything seemed to go still as her expression fell. Inside, indescribable and earth-shattering joy began to build. She felt him before she saw him, a sensation like a clear bell making her entire body feel a shower of warmth and sensation. Tears sprang to her eyes readily and she turned in a dreamlike fog, already knowing what she would see. But even though she knew, her expression broke when she saw him across the small distance. Tired, a little thinner than he'd been before, and even more handsome than she could remember, he was the visual that came to mind when she thought of the word love. _Obi-Wan_. Raw, relieved emotion broke on both their faces the second they locked eyes, and Sabé took a few dazed steps forward, suddenly smiling ear to ear even while sobbing despite her elation. _You're really here_. Then she broke into a run, and so did he. Amid the soft light shafts between the columns, they rushed to each other, Sabé's speed so intense that when she slammed into his arms, she might have knocked him over completely or fallen down herself if he hadn't caught her so strongly.

"Obi-Wan, _Obi-Wan_ ," she whispered, his name said in a way that conveyed so many deep emotion—she was laughing and crying at the same time. She held on tightly, her face buried in his neck. She was afraid and unwilling to let go. "I was beginning to think I'd never see you again!" she whispered harshly, swearing to herself she would never let him go again, memorizing how he felt.

He pulled back, just enough to be able to see her, and the lovers exchanged disbelieving, silent joy to be together again, hands tenderly on each other's faces and heads. Sabé's face was streaked with happy tears—and Obi-Wan's eyes shone wet, too. He had more grays gathered at the hair near his temples, and they made Sabé ache with love. "I _never_ want to be apart like that again," he managed, his expression one of the most emotionally honest she'd ever seen from him—conveying just how hard it had been on him to be separated.

"No," she agreed emphatically, shaking her head hard, understanding what she saw on his face completely. _"Never_." Their eyes met and locked, and it felt like there was nothing else in the world except them. As always, they were drawn to each other like magnets, helpless against the strength of the spark and pull that had forever been there. And with an urgency and devotion the time apart had stoked, they kissed each other hard with all the stored-up affection they'd been saving. For a brief moment, Sabé melted into the passionate embrace, letting herself remember the way Obi-Wan held her in his arms. He wordlessly spoke his affection with the sensuality of kisses that made her hot all over, holding her just as close as she held him, his touch betraying how needy he was—and it was just as needy as she was. She couldn't get enough of feeling him, verifying he was in one piece and here—and then she pulled back, suddenly remembering where they were and casting nervous glances around for the sudden fear she felt. "Someone might see," she whispered, anxious that a media member or surveillance camera would catch them kissing passionately. Obi-Wan was something of a public figure and media favorite, and the scandal it would cause to be seen in that way would be significant.

Obi-Wan's focus on her remained completely unbroken. "Let them," he said, startling her. He reached to gently hold her chin with his thumb and pointer finger as his eyes searched her wide, surprised ones.

"General _Kenobi_ ," she breathed, a dawning, incredulous smile on her face. "I've never known you to be an outright a rebel like that."

His smile was weighted by the horrors he no doubt had witnessed. "War has a way of revealing what's most important to a man," he replied huskily, not stepping away from her—remaining tellingly close without regard for being caught or seen. "I've despised being away from you," he said softly, "and I assume I'd still be on the front lines of the Outer Rim Sieges if it wasn't for the Chancellor's situation." Sobering, Sabé nodded, abruptly understanding that this reunion was almost by chance—and that Obi-Wan might yet be sent back. A thought that deflated the metaphorical bubble of happiness she'd been in. Obi-Wan seemed bent on staying in the moment though, caressing the side of her face and searching her gaze deeply. "I thought of you every hour of every day," he whispered.

She leaned into his touch, trying not to worry herself for the future, and instead be in the moment with him. "I did too," she replied, her throat closed and tight at the emotion she felt. It had been beyond difficult, but here with him again, it seemed worth it. "There's so much to tell you," she managed, overwhelmed by the prospect. "So much I want to hear about."

He nodded readily. "I have to report to the Council by the end of day," he murmured, his crystal blue eyes searching her gaze. "But until then…"

Taking his meaning that he was hers until then, Sabé nodded, helpless against herself. She met him halfway for another lengthy, deep kiss again before taking his hand, casting a furtive glance around, then pulling him along by a hand with her toward where she'd left her bike. Soon, they'd be on the way to her apartment, where they would be free to take their reunion to the most primal, sweet level that existed.


	35. Deception

Almost four weeks later, Sabé rolled over, reaching for Obi-Wan's familiar shape—then found empty, cold bed. A ripple of fear went through her even as her eyes popped open to look around in a daze. A thousand possibilities were already in her mind of where he'd gone and why he hadn't told her goodbye… then she saw him in the fresher, shaving and trimming his beard shirtlessly. Her shoulders slumped in relief.

"Good morning," he said pleasantly without yet looking at her, letting the razor carefully skim his neck. Relaxing as a barely audible sigh escaped, it evaporated: the tension which had so quickly gripped her and the fear that he had been called away again. Obi-Wan finished his stroke and sent her a little grin. "Keeping up appearances," he said offhandedly, and Sabé smiled helplessly back at her handsome companion, forever a bit flustered when he grinned at her like that. She contented herself to watch him do his personal grooming, marveling at the reality of him here with her. The past four weeks had been busy with work for both of them, but every night they'd been together, and every morning they'd awoken together too. Like a real couple. While Sabé had initially worried that their time apart might have left a negative impact, they'd found their stride again easily. Being around him was comfortable and easy. Just like it always had been.

Obi-Wan had remained on Coruscant the past few weeks while the Outer Rim Sieges continued on. At this time, the Council hadn't seen fit to send him back… and Sabé had to hope they kept it that way. She yawned loudly, then scrubbed a hand across her face, not for the first time that week feeling very queasy upon waking. Too much work, too little sleep, she supposed. Last night's group meeting ran through her mind, and her relaxation abated slightly in favor of anxiety. She pushed those feelings away and watched as Obi-Wan finished shaving, rinsed off, then came leisurely into the brightening apartment. "I could get used to this," she told him wistfully, admiring his half-naked appearance. "Seeing you every morning."

He smiled easily, coming over to her. "Not long now, my dear." He sat down on the bed next to her even as she sat up and found his hand threading through her hair affectionately. "The war is almost at its end," he said with a certain light in his eyes, "and then we discover what our path holds next." He was about to kiss her, but then he hesitated, noticing the apprehension in her eyes. "Something's troubling you," he observed, immediately growing a fraction more concerned. "What is it?"

Sabé swallowed hard, searching his aqua eyes deeply. She'd come in late last night from her latest meeting with The Group. Obi-Wan had already been asleep, waking briefly to hold her and kiss her and nuzzle into her before he drifted off again. She'd fallen asleep quickly after that, too. Now that they were both awake… she knew the time to tell him was now. She still didn't feel ready, even though she'd wanted to share this with him since the beginning. Ready or not, she plunged forward. "Obi-Wan, I have something to tell you. Something big." Her nerves—her fear that he would be angry at her or reject her—nagged her nonstop. But she kept on regardless. "I've been keeping a secret from you—and from everyone—since before the war began," she said, feeling her mouth go dry as her voice dropped low. He listened intently, his apprehension and confusion clear as she struggled to finally say the words out loud: "I'm—I'm involved in something many would call… high treason."

Obi-Wan's expression went shocked and for a long second, he seemed incapable of words. Then, remaining neutral, without jumping to any conclusions, merely seeking to understand from a vaguely worried place, he carefully asked: "What do you mean?"

As morning continued to dawn, Sabé began to tell him everything she'd had to sit on for all this time. How her investigations into Kamino had led Daggoth to recruit her into The Group, then how over the next now-almost three years, she'd played a part in the effort to build that group, acquire intel, and bring the Chancellor to justice through the plan they were still in the middle of carrying out. Obi-Wan listened closely, not hiding his growing surprise. Unless Sabé were mistaken, she thought she saw a little bit of impressed respect in his expression, too. She finished the entire spiel with: "And so as of yesterday, The Group has _finally_ agreed that it's time to tell the Council and attempt to bring them on board." She stopped speaking then hesitated, biting her lip briefly, trying to gauge him. "I wanted you to know first."

He still hadn't said a word, studying her closely—but empathy was clear. "You're worried I'm upset," he observed, then shook his head briefly and touched her shoulder with a gentle, heartening grip. A measure of hurt did linger in his eyes. "I understand duty and the need for secrecy at times, Sabé… you're in good company." He then conceded his mixed feelings. "In a way, yes, I _am_ surprised you never told me… but on the other hand when I take my feelings out of it, I can only respect and understand your discretion. _And_ be a little impressed that I never realized."

Sabé had imagined he would accuse her of lying to him, so this response inspired a feeling of awe. "Truly?"

"Yes," he answered, then frowned lightly. "But why tell the Council today? What's changed?"

Something definitely had and he was every bit as smart as she knew he was to ask that—but it wasn't time to share _everything_ with him yet. "I think I'll leave that for the meeting, if you don't mind."

Obi-Wan remained agreeable, even if curiosity didn't disappear completely. "Of course," he said, still thinking hard. "You're going to request a special session after the war briefs today?"

Naturally he would have such an accurate guess at how she planned to carry this out. He knew her well. "Yes."

Again, he nodded, already deep in thought. "I think we should meet with Master Yoda and Master Windu prior. I can arrange it." He hesitated, then told her something that piqued her interest very swiftly. "The Jedi… have been keeping secrets of their own."

* * *

A couple of hours later, Sabé and Obi-Wan entered into a quiet meditation chamber where Windu and Yoda waited, their expressions impossible to decipher. Obi-Wan had gotten the meeting just like he'd said.

"Agent Nebira. Master Kenobi." Windu greeted without friendliness. His eyes seemed suspicious—no doubt he had assumed they had asked to meet for some reason related to their relationship. As Sabé and Obi-Wan took seats on cushions opposite of the Masters, Windu raised his chin silently, offering nothing further. Silently demanding they state their business.

Obi-Wan remained quiet, looking to Sabé, who gravely regarded each Jedi Master in turn. "Thank you for agreeing to see us, Masters." She remained outwardly professional, even though she was nervous inside. "It's time to make you aware of something I've been hiding. My role in a secret operation." Windu's expression showed the beginnings of surprise, while Yoda's eyes narrowed and he leaned in, as if to listen better. "Since the beginning of the war, I've been part of The Group—which is the given name for a covert effort to gather allies and intel that will bring the Supreme Chancellor to justice. We have reason to believe he's behind everything. The war, all the corruption in the Senate. All the corruption in other government agencies and the media." A significant, evaluating look passed between Windu and Yoda, and they both took a few seconds of complete silence to digest what they'd just heard.

"And how many are there of this… group?" Windu asked, skeptical.

"Five principle members," Sabé replied. "And hundreds more in small cells throughout government and media, the Senate. Some civilians too."

Windu eyebrows were high, then he frowned deeply. "Obi-Wan knew of this?" he asked—and Sabé didn't miss the reason behind his question. He wanted to know just how much hiding Obi-Wan was capable of.

"No," she replied honestly and firmly, hating the mistrust she'd caused there. "Not until this morning. The Group felt it best to proceed with utmost caution when it came to involving the Order."

"So why tell the Jedi now?" Windu pressed. Like Obi-Wan, he was perceptive and sharp.

Sabé nodded grimly, then pulled a HoloDisc from her pocket. "I have some footage from the Chancellor's office. It's from last night. I think you'll want to see it."

Two small blue figures appeared on a video recording: Palpatine and Anakin Skywalker, in the Chancellor's grand vista office space.

" _I fear the Jedi,"_ Palpatine began, his voice weak and digitized in the recording. _"The Council keeps pushing for more control. They're shrouded in secrecy and obsessed with maintaining their dogmatic and quite frankly narrow-minded ways."_

Anakin's reply was immediate and confident. _"I can assure you that the Jedi are dedicated to the values of the Republic, sir."_

" _Nevertheless, their actions will speak more loudly than their words. I'm depending on you, son."_

"… _For what? I don't understand."_

" _To be the eyes, ears, and voice of the Republic. Anakin, I'm appointing you to be my personal representative on the Jedi Council."_

" _Me? A Master?"_ Anakin seemed absolutely thrilled in the low-res footage, and quickly attempted to squash his expression. _"I am overwhelmed, sir, but the Council elects its own members. They will never accept this."_

Palpatine placed a fatherly hand on Anakin's shoulder. _"I think they will. They need you more than you know."_

The recording stopped, and Sabé glanced at the very troubled looking three Jedi Masters she shared the room with. She was glad that they recognized the footage that Braxis had handed over last night for what it was: disturbing. "As you can see, it appears that Palpatine is attempting a significant move to gain control of the Jedi Order. Or at least get better access to its internal workings through Anakin."

Obi-Wan looked ill. Windu was the first to speak. "How did you get access to his private security channels?"

"We didn't. We planted our own surveillance." Sabé gave the Jedi meaningful looks. "He actually removed his internal security devices recently. So did many directors at RDI, and we're fairly sure the higher ups in the media and news agencies did too." She knew she probably didn't need to be as plain as all this, but she didn't want to take a chance that the meaning was missed: "They're preparing for something."

Obi-Wan stared blankly, then turned to look at her. "Any idea of what?"

Sabé shook her head and shrugged, her expression stormy. "There's been mention of an ultimate weapon. And a new world order, but none of it directly from Palpatine. I'm afraid this is one of those things that probably won't make sense until it's too late. We've found that the Supreme Chancellor is a master at concealing things in layers upon layers."

Yoda gave a long, low _hmm_ sound, his expression bleak. "Shocking revelations, these all are. Disturbing, indeed. Glad you have told us, I am." The little green master then looked at Windu, who gave a defeated little nod, as if silently agreeing. "Something to share, we have, as well," Yoda said, surprising Sabé, and he leaned forward intently, his gaze locked onto hers. "Told Obi-Wan at the start of the war that a Sith Lord was controlling the Senate, Dooku did."

A Sith Lord controlling the Senate? Sabé looked to Obi-Wan in shock. He confirmed with a tense nod. "The one I defeated on Naboo… we believe this would be his Master."

The memory of that black and red face from a nightmare immediately appeared in her mind's eye. " _What_?" Sabé asked breathlessly, searching the faces in the room closely. All the Masters appeared to be resigned to this theory. "And you think Dooku was telling the truth?" she asked, trying to figure out what this meant for the galaxy.

Obi-Wan was uncomfortable. "We're not sure, but…"

"Our ability to use the Force has diminished," Windu said with finality, and it was clearly something he didn't say easily. "All of us."

It was Sabé's turn to be absolutely shocked… and immediately afraid. "What was once clear and precise is now clouded," Obi-Wan added desolately. "Dark. Confused."

"A hard time seeing the future, we have," Yoda sighed grimly. "A difficult time sensing truth, too."

It was news that alarmed her immediately, and spoke to the situation being worse than any of them had known. "And you think it's because of this Sith Lord? You think it's because what Dooku said was true?"

Windu nodded gravely. "This Sith Lord being in control might explain how the murkiness of the Force has only grown stronger since the war began."

Sabé fell into brief silence. "Thank you for trusting me with this information," she said, understanding that she'd just been given some highly classified insight. But more than that, she understood what Windu was getting at: "It all leads to one conclusion, doesn't it?"

Obi-Wan was in step with her thinking. "Either Palpatine _is_ the Sith lord we've been searching out… or he's being closely controlled by one." Their tense gazes met briefly.

Windu was shaking his head, appearing momentarily aghast. "If it is him, we've been _blind_ this entire time."

"But how do we discover the truth?" Obi-Wan asked, a slight lean toward desperation in his voice.

Yoda breathed out noisily, a dreary sound. "A feeling I have that reveal himself, he will soon."

"It may be too late at that point," Mace countered. "Let's confront him outright."

"And appear from the outside to be staging a politically motivated coup?" Obi-Wan asked in slight alarm. "You heard what Sabé said, he has control of the media."

"Yes, and that's exactly how the public would see it," Sabé agreed. "I don't think I need to remind anyone here that the Chancellor is the Clones highest commander. Can you imagine what would happen if he declared the Jedi Order to be enemies while the public fully believed that narrative?" The Jedi Masters all agreed silently as Sabé wet her lips. Palpatine had masterfully orchestrated this—and it almost felt too late. "We're stuck playing his game," she murmured in frustration, then refocused. "Which is why The Group thinks Anakin can play a part in shedding light on the truth."

Windu took her meaning first, and nodded, an intrigued expression on his face as the meeting came full circle. "Use Palpatine's interest in Anakin against him."

"Yes."

Obi-Wan was mildly appalled. "You want him to spy on Palpatine? What for? The Group has already planted surveillance."

"Because cameras can only capture him doing so much," Sabé replied regretfully but certainly. "We haven't gotten anything of significance except the clip I showed you in the last four weeks." Understanding about _when_ the cameras had been planted crossed Obi-Wan's face. "If we can get someone in there asking questions—someone who he trusts, or someone he's trying to use—either way, we could get footage of Palpatine incriminating himself," Sabé theorized. "Maybe Anakin can get him to admit to something."

Yoda nodded, unsettled and very deeply in thought. "Agree, I do," he said. "Asked to use this opportunity to uncover information, Anakin must be. But tell him the full details of what Agent Sabé has shared today, we must not. Too close to the Chancellor he is, too vulnerable to being tricked. Into the wrong hands, the truth could fall. Unaware of her true activities and The Group, he must stay."

Windu was nodding in accord. "I agree as well."

Obi-Wan did not. "Are you sure, Masters?" he ventured in full worry. "We could tell him the truth. I promise you that we can trust him," he said, a certain heartfelt pleading tone in his voice. "Anakin already has trust issues with the Council, especially with what happened with Ahsoka."

While Yoda appeared regretful, Windu's reply was prompt and blunt. "And _we_ have trust issues with young Skywalker. He's continued to hide his affair with Padmé Amidala for nearly three _years_ now." His eyes flickered back and forth between the forbidden lovers in front of him briefly. "I may not agree with what you two have been pursuing, for example, but I can at the very least respect Obi-Wan for telling us the truth." He looked at Sabé darkly. "And respect you, Nebira, for not telling Department secrets even to the man you share a bed with. It speaks to your character." Sabé wasn't sure how to visibly respond to the barbed compliment. "Anakin is not to be trusted with this information about Sabé's secret dealings," Windu asserted firmly. "Not right now. I hope he can prove himself worthy of our trust again soon."

Obi-Wan didn't argue back, taking the hint in mollified silence. So it was decided.

"Into session with the High Council, you will come?" Yoda asked Sabé.

"The other Masters should hear this news from you directly before we involve Anakin at all," Windu added in.

Sabé agreed, feeling yet another surge of nervousness. "Yes. I will."

A peaceful expression settled over Yoda, who nodded. "Good. _Good_. Faith you must have, my friends. Over, our fight is not. And hope for the future, there _is_." He looked at Sabé and gave the strangest giggling chuckle as he looked briefly at the area between her collarbones—where beneath her clothing where she knew he couldn't see, the yellow Kyber crystal rested. The softest, intrigued frown stirred on Sabé's face and her head tilted softly to the side. What did Yoda know?

* * *

**That Afternoon**

The Council session began as they always did. Windu commenced. "On today, the second Primeday of Month Two, year seven thousand nine-hundred and seventy-eight, the Council convenes for its afternoon session. Present are Jedi Masters Adi Gallia, Coleman Trebor, Eeth Koth, Depa Billaba, Shaak Ti, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Kit Fisto, Plo Koon, Ki-Adi-Mundi, Yoda, and myself, Mace Windu." He gave a brief pause. "Also present is Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker. Council hereby commences."

Anakin stood the second the session was called, and Obi-Wan watched the scene begin to unfold exactly as predicted. "Good morning, my Masters," the tall young Knight said, and Obi-Wan could hear his nervousness. "Yesterday, I met with the Supreme Chancellor and he has appointed me his personal representative to the Council." Anakin was taking great care to speak properly and calmly, visibly proud of himself despite his nerves. "I hope I will be able to report back to him that the nomination has been accepted."

The Council was quiet for a moment. Anakin couldn't know that earlier that day, Sabé had been there and everyone here had known his request was coming before he'd even entered the chamber. Obi-Wan felt guilt for the deception wrack him deeply.

"Does the Supreme Chancellor understand that the Council makes its own nominations?" Windu asked brusquely, breaking the silence.

Anakin remained unruffled. "He does, my Master."

"And why exactly would the Supreme Chancellor need a representative on the Council?" Windu questioned.

"He trusts me," Anakin said simply. "And would like to know more closely what we're doing."

Windu fixed him with a withering stare. "Does that imply he does not trust us?"

Anakin faltered, then re-established his curt exterior. "I don't have an opinion on that."

Obi-Wan felt a crush of disappointment. Anakin was lying. Windu sat back in his seat, probably thinking the same thing that Obi-Wan was. Then he nodded toward the exit. "Be excused for a moment. We'll call you back in shortly." Solemnly, Obi-Wan watched Anakin go. The feeling was distinct: the point of no return had already happened somewhere. He just didn't know when that had been. And he feared for the future deeply.

* * *

Directly after the Council adjourned, Obi-Wan and Anakin descended one of the staircases in the grand halls. "What kind of nonsense is this, put me on the Council and not make me a Master?!" Anakin fumed. "That's never been done in the history of the Jedi. It's _insulting_!"

"Oh calm down, Anakin, you have been given a great honor," Obi-Wan replied testily, then stopped walking pointedly, demanding Anakin pay attention to him. "To be on the Council at your age, it's never happened before!" he pointed out, then lowered his voice and folded his arms. "The fact of the matter is you're too close to the Chancellor. The Council doesn't like it when he interferes in Jedi affairs."

Anakin remained dark. "I swear to you, I didn't ask to be put on the Council."

"But it's what you wanted," Obi-Wan pointed out, almost accusingly so. "Your friendship with Chancellor Palpatine seems to have paid off."

"That has _nothing_ to do with this," Anakin muttered.

Aghast at the statement, Obi-Wan had a certain look on his face. "How? Anakin, regardless of how it happened, you find yourself in a delicate situation."

"You mean divided loyalties."

"I warned you there was tension between the Council and the Chancellor," Obi-Wan reminded. "I was very clear. Why didn't you listen? You walked right into it."

"Don't lecture me, Obi-Wan," Anakin replied curtly. "The Council is upset because I'm the youngest to ever serve."

Obi-Wan was floored by that statement. "No, they are not—Anakin, I worry when you speak of jealousy and pride. Those are not topics appropriate for a Jedi. They're dangerous, dark thoughts."

Barely restraining his contempt, Anakin was defensive. "Master, you of all people should have confidence in my abilities, it's not pride, it's just _the way it is!_ " He looked hurt. "I'm the Chosen One, do you expect me to cast that aside? Ignore what _everyone_ has been telling me all these years?" Obi-Wan deflated a bit—it truly was a difficult balance to achieve. "And I know where my loyalties lie, I have no need for you to remind me," Anakin said sullenly, then frowned harder. "I sense there's more to this talk than you're saying."

"You're right," Obi-Wan conceded. "The only reason the Council has approved your appointment is because the Chancellor trusts you."

Scoffing, Anakin crossed his arms. "And?"

Drawing in a deep breath against the regret he had for what he was about to do, Obi-Wan shored himself. "Anakin, look, I am on your side. I didn't want to see you put in this situation."

Anakin's arms began to uncross. "What situation?" he asked suspiciously.

Obi-Wan bowed his head briefly, then sadly meeting Anakin's hard gaze, he let the proverbial hammer swing. "The Council wants you to report on all of the Chancellor's dealings. They… want to know what he's up to."

Understanding was visible, quickly followed by offense. "…They want me to _spy_ on the Chancellor?" Anakin asked incredulously. "That's treason!"

"We are at _war_ , Anakin," Obi-Wan countered empathetically, then took a few steps toward the window they stood beside. The warm, golden light was comforting. "The Jedi Council is sworn to uphold the principles of the Republic, even if the Chancellor does not."

There was a short pause as Anakin approached Obi-Wan's side with eyes narrowed. "Why didn't the Council give me this assignment when we were in session?" he asked dangerously.

Anakin was too perceptive. "This assignment is not to be on record," Obi-Wan replied quietly, a measure of shame coming over him at the dishonest tactics that were required of him.

Incensed, Anakin appeared to almost burst out of his skin, pacing a brief, small area in front of his former Master. "Secrets, lies! I thought the Council was better than this!" he ranted, then fixed Obi-Wan with a direct look as he defended Palpatine passionately, emotion coloring his words and making his feelings all too clear. "The Chancellor is not a bad man, Obi-Wan, he befriended me, he's watched out for me ever since I arrived here."

"Yes, and _why_?" Obi-Wan pressed, appealing to Anakin's good sense, which was so hard to access when the younger Jedi got riled up like this. "What motive could he possibly have, the goodness of his own heart?" Why couldn't Anakin see the absurdity of such an opinion? "I don't think so. What do your senses tell you, truly?" Anakin didn't reply, but he stewed visibly. "That is why you must help us," Obi-Wan continued urgently. "Our allegiance is to the Senate, not to its leader who has managed to stay in office long after his term has expired."

"The Senate _demanded_ that he stay longer," Anakin retorted sharply.

"Yes, but use your feelings, Anakin, something is out of _place_!" Obi-Wan insisted, growing exhausted and bereaved by the interaction.

"You're asking me to do something against the Jedi Code," Anakin replied angrily. "Against the Republic. Against a mentor and a friend. _That's_ what's out of place here. How can you ask this of me?"

Obi-Wan regarded his former Padawan with a breaking heart. "The _Council_ is asking you." Which was the truth. But, Obi-Wan had agreed to be the one who asked this of him.

Anakin became cold, haughty almost. "Do they know?" he asked scornfully, something about his eyes seeming heartless in that moment. "About you and the agent and your _love affair_?" Obi-Wan withered slightly, then said nothing, looking down. He was not willing to lie. Nor was he willing to speak the truth. "I thought so," Anakin muttered. " _Hypocrites_. All of you. I'm sure if I went to them about my situation, they'd dismiss me from the Order immediately with disgrace," he seethed. "But _your_ situation gets swept under the rug and you're on the _Council,_ still! _Why_?" He was riling up again. "Why am I always the sinner? Why am I always treated like the outsider?"

It was all a bit too much for Obi-Wan. "Anakin, please, stop playing the victim!" he insisted, finding his emotions beginning to rise to match Anakin's. "They probably _will_ dismiss me after the war for what I've done!" He had to take a second to compose himself. For the briefest moment, he saw kinship and understanding in Anakin's eyes before the defiant wall was raised again. Obi-Wan shook his head sadly. "You assume too much, and your arrogance does not serve you well," he said with as much gentle firmness as he could muster. "I am not the enemy here, and neither is the Council, nor the Order." He had no time left to argue. "You have been given a very important charge, and must do what is right, for the greater good of the galaxy. Go to Palpatine. And see what he has to say." It was not a suggestion. It was an order.

Anakin raised his chin in defiance. "I will do it, and I will find nothing, I _promise_ you," he said forebodingly. "The Chancellor is not the villain." He then lowered his chin, resulting in a foreboding, unsettling glare. "Perhaps the _Jedi_ are." He then brushed past Obi-Wan hard, knocking into him on purpose.

Obi-Wan shut his eyes hard, willing himself not to react. Anakin knew how to push his buttons. Calling on the Force for calm and clarity, Obi-Wan was calm again in a few heartbeats, but still upset beneath it all at the exchange. He remained at the window, overcome by the weight of reality yet again. Learning about Sabé's secret work this morning had changed things. Not with how he felt for her, but in how he saw the war. It was almost more frightening now, because the war was now revealed to be a strange smoke screen, some orchestrated thing to keep everyone distracted. From what exactly, it wasn't clear.

He felt Sabé's approach then, and turned ever so slightly toward her. She'd been nearby across the way and down a bit, wearing the hood of her cloak up to keep herself from being overly recognizable. But Anakin, in his emotional state, hadn't even noticed her once. "He took it badly, as I'm sure you saw," Obi-Wan said quietly as she came to stand beside him. "But he's going to do it." He sighed hard and then lifted his hood up too, needing to feel safer and less visible to the world. His arms folded again and he stared off into the familiar scenery of Coruscant beyond. "Anakin is my friend. My brother. And somehow sometimes… it feels like he's my son, too." He looked down a bit, pain filling him emotionally. "Seeing him like this is terribly difficult." Being unable to reason with Anakin, being unable to make him see how things were… it broke his heart.

Sabé's silence had a warmth and nurturing to it. "You're not blaming yourself, are you?" she momentarily asked, then sighed. She knew him well. "Obi-Wan." She was the only one he knew who could say his name that exact way, and he finally looked at her. That familiar face and the unguarded eyes struck him anew, adding a measure of reassurance. "Anakin was already ten years into existence when you met," she said. "You can't take responsibility for those defining years, nor the mark they left on him."

He knew that. But still. He looked down and rubbed his beard for a moment. "Sometimes, I think Qui-Gon was wrong," he admitted in a near whisper. "That Anakin never should have even left Tatooine at all. Sometimes I fear becoming a Jedi has only made him miserable and trapped. I don't even know if this is the life he wants half the time." It wasn't the Jedi way, to worry about another's path like that, and Obi-Wan knew it. Still… he wrestled with his role in Anakin's life and what role, if any, he played in his former apprentice's anger. "I just wish he would talk to me about it."

Sabé nodded, hearing his pain and standing with him in it. "Sooner or later, he _will_ talk to you about this," she said. "I think he just needs to feel like you're on his side."

Obi-Wan felt a prick of something like grief. "I always have been." He knew that. She did too. Did Anakin?

Sabé's comlink buzzed and she looked at the readout then gave a reluctant sigh. "I gotta go," she said, looking at him regretfully. This was usually where they'd hug. A small group of Jedi passed by, engrossed in a conversation. Sabé and Obi-Wan eyed them in brief tandem before looking back at each other bittersweetly.

"See you at home later?" Obi-Wan asked softly.

She smiled back, but it wasn't without a small measure of pain. "Yes. See you at home."

* * *

That night, Obi-Wan had a strange, vivid dream. Of sand, of desolation. He saw Sabé there, surrounded by the paleness of a seemingly familiar desert landscape. She carried two strange lights with her like one might carry a child on each hip: one green glowing orb of light, and one yellow. He felt a sense of recognition and love—but then Sabé stumbled and the yellow orb was snatched away and there was a tremendous scream, a child's voice: _No—come back!_ A strange snatched series of sensations followed: A storm of sand biting away at him, the feeling of rough rocks scraping against skin, someone crying as if their soul had been stolen away. Was that him crying? _As you have taken from me, I will take from you!_ Came an angry scream that swallowed him whole and sent terror down to his every bone. Obi-Wan started, waking up breathless and alarmed.

"What is it?" Sabé asked, right at his side in bed, wide awake and worried.

Breathing hard and struggling to reconcile reality with that very vivid dream, he shook his head. "Just… just a nightmare," he replied uneasily, shaking it off. But in addition to the disconcerting content of the dream, he had just realized he'd had that dream before. Years ago, when he was just a teenage boy—the same exact vision. And he'd forgotten about it until now. Shocked, afraid, confused to the meaning, and amazed as he realized he'd seen Sabé before he had ever even met her… he accepted Sabé's arms tightening around him comfortingly, the soft little kiss she put against his jaw. And turning toward her in the dark, seeking her lips with his, Obi-Wan pulled her against himself, an urgency and need in him that he didn't fully understand.

The next morning, Obi-Wan left early while Sabé was preparing for the day—an urgent Council meeting that had been called. Not long after, she'd get a Holovideo transmission in which he told her he'd been assigned the job of going after Grievous and was being deployed immediately. Sabé merely said she was on her way, then cut the transmission.

* * *

Obi-Wan walked purposefully along a landing platform overlooking the docking bay shipyards where thousands of Clones, armored weapons, and tanks were loading onto a massive Republic Assault ship below. He glanced at the forces, steeling himself for one final battle. One final push to end this. Another thought arose: Where was Sabé?

"Master!" came a familiar voice, and Obi-Wan stopped to look behind himself. Anakin was jogging up, his dark robes billowing as he did so.

Curious, hopeful, but guarded, Obi-Wan waited for him to get close. "Anakin, what are you doing here?" he asked, frowning slightly.

Anakin indicated the loading ship below. "You're going to need me on this one, Master," he said. "Bringing Grievous in will not be an easy task."

This was the first time since yesterday they'd spoken, so Obi-Wan kept things light. "Oh I agree. However, it may turn out just to be a wild bantha chase." He turned to continue onward to where the narrow gangway that led from the dock to the upper ship's entrance was suspended.

Anakin followed, then as Obi-Wan turned to say goodbye, he was met by an apologetic, drawn face. "Master, I know I've disappointed you," Anakin said, a note of embarrassment on his voice. "I have not been very appreciative of your training… and you're right, I've been arrogant. I—I've just been so _frustrated_ with the Council."

Eyebrows faintly risen in surprise, Obi-Wan studied his fellow Jedi in gathering hope. "What's brought this along?"

"Just want you to know where I stand, Master," Anakin said, visibly having to put his wounded ego aside. "And apologize for my behavior yesterday. I said some very misguided things, and I regret them." He was being truthful.

The sun broke through clouds in Obi-Wan's heart. A smile came to his face and he closed the distance between them a bit to put a hand onto Anakin's shoulder. He had believed Anakin would come to regret his words yesterday. This was reassuring. "You are strong and wise, Anakin, and I am very proud of you," he said honestly. Anakin was visibly touched by the words. "I have taught you everything I know, and you've become a far greater Jedi than I could ever hope to be."

Anakin grew conflicted, then downright depressed. He lowered his voice. "Obi-Wan… if something bad happened to Sabé—or if you knew something bad was _going_ to happen to her… what would you do?"

Obi-Wan was taken aback, but after a second or two of trying to grapple with how to answer, he decided to be honest and not question Anakin's motives for asking such a thing. "I imagine I'd do what was required to see that she wasn't hurt." The look of absolute fear and dread on Anakin's face prompted grave concern to grow. "What is it, Anakin?"

"Padmé." Anakin wet his lips anxiously. "I… keep dreaming about her dying. They're not just dreams, they're visions." He held Obi-Wan's gaze meaningfully, desperately almost. "I need to know how to save her."

A dangerous thing to need. Immediately given a great, wary pause, Obi-Wan was careful in his answer. "Not everyone can be saved, Anakin. No matter how much we may love and care for them."

It hadn't been the answer that Anakin was seeking. "What if you were having these dreams?" he asked with more hardness than before. "What if it was Sabé who you saw die every night in your mind?"

The older Jedi gave himself a moment to think that over and allow himself to consider. "I imagine that would be very difficult indeed to navigate," he admitted, thinking back to the dream he'd had just this morning. He wouldn't allow himself to obsess over it. "Anakin, fears can materialize as dreams—your mind can play tricks on you. As long as I've known you… there has been great unease and fear inside of you. You must remember that about yourself." It wasn't an accusation. It was information that Anakin needed to be cognizant of. He needed to be stronger than his instincts. "Trust the living Force."

"And not myself?" Anakin asked, both defensive and pleading at the same time.

"The thing about being a Jedi is knowing where your power ends, Anakin," Obi-Wan counseled gently. "And accepting that reality peacefully. Detaching from the outcomes we want, in favor of what the Force decrees."

Anakin's low gaze rose slowly, and his next words were ominous indeed. "Maybe the Force could be wrong."

Obi-Wan resisted the urge to dogmatically lecture or shut that idea down straight out. But he did have to strongly disagree. "Many times, one's view of 'wrong' is a biased interpretation," he pointed out. "The Order could be wrong. A Jedi's _interpretation_ of the Force could be wrong. The Code could be wrong. But _never_ the Force, Anakin." He felt another twinge of apprehension go through him. Anakin still had very much to learn. But so did they all.

Nodding and processing what he'd been told, Anakin closed the conversation before it could go any further. "Fair enough, Master." He chanced a smile. "Are you sure you don't need my help?"

Obi-Wan smiled back. "The Council's decision is final. You don't need to worry. I have enough clones with me to take three systems the size of Utapau. I think I'll be able to handle the situation… even without your help."

"Well, there's always a first time," Anakin joked.

Obi-Wan laughed, and decided to let his former apprentice have the last word, and he turned to go down the ramp. A few steps down, Anakin's final farewell paused him. "Obi-Wan, may the Force be with you."

Turning to look at the young Jedi who stood in the shadows of the loading corridor, a gentle, reminiscent smile came over Obi-Wan's sunlit face. It struck him in that moment just how far they'd come, and hope remained for their future past this political debacle. Looking forward to the day when he and Anakin could finally sit down and have honest discussions about everything they had been quietly avoiding, Obi-Wan sent a tender nod to the slave boy from Tatooine who had grown into a formidable Jedi who stood before him today. "Goodbye, old friend. May the Force be with you." And with no idea of how final that goodbye truly was, Obi-Wan continued onward to enter the ship.

The second he was inside of the darker interior in a small and private loading room, he stopped, smiling again as small relief rose. "There you are," he said, and Sabé smiled back from the center of the space. Her smile wasn't without some anxiety though.

"Didn't think you'd get to leave without a sendoff, did you?" she asked. They met in a brief, tight embrace before Sabé let her frustrations and apprehension be known. "I should have known better than to hope for no deployment."

With his cheek against her head, Obi-Wan stroked a comforting hand down against the back of her hair. "I know, but this last piece of the puzzle will be the start of new things for us." He drew back to make eye contact.

"I could come with you," she offered. "Help you take him down."

An offer he knew she meant. "You have work to do here, haven't you?" he asked, knowing that she did indeed. Resistant and reluctant emotions still stayed on her face. "I'll be back in a day or two, you have my word. It won't take long. Grievous is weakened. Limping. And I have enough Clones to populate a small planet, so… there's no need to worry."

One of Sabé's eyebrows rose just slightly, almost a good-humored challenge. "I'll worry."

He softened, seeing in her both the young handmaiden who'd played queen and the wizened agent that she was now. "I know you will."

She tried to be light, giving him a put-on warning look. "This is the _last time_ I'll willingly agree to let you out of my sight, Obi-Wan Kenobi, mark my words."

It caused him to grin, of all things, and he looked down briefly, nodding to compose himself. "Duly noted, Milady." He looked into her eyes lengthily once his expression had stilled. "I shall return and be yours for as long as you'll have me."

For a moment, a soft trance stood between them. "That's a very long time indeed," she said, warming his heart. Then she glanced around at nothing in particular as discomfort and fear showed plainly. "I have a bad feeling, Obi-Wan," she whispered. "I'm so afraid."

Obi-Wan pulled her to him again, cradling her to his chest briefly. "Fear not, my love—this is almost over," he vowed, set to see his words come true. He could hear the ship cycling through its check-phase, and knew the time to leave was very soon indeed. He pulled away again, regretting leaving, but having no other choice. "I'll see you soon. I promise."

Sabé touched the side of his face tenderly, and he could see that she was mentally preparing for the worst. "I'll hold you to that," she said, but not without apprehension. Her expression struggled to stay strong and brave, even as emotion gathered in her eyes. "I love you," she whispered.

His reply would always be the same: "And I love you."


	36. And All Comes Undone

It was midafternoon of the same day that Obi-Wan had left for Utapau. Sabé headed back into the Temple from a long string of RDI meetings and made for the Council-only war room, which was high up in the Temple's uppermost peaks. Her mind was on Obi-Wan of course. During the blissful and relatively uneventful past four weeks, Sabé had forgotten how quickly worry and fear could pull her down. She had to remind herself that she had no control over what was to come. She could only hope that Obi-Wan would return to her safely. One last battle—one last separation: that had been his promise. She hoped so dearly that he was right.

As Sabé worked her way upwards into the Temple, she passed by a small flock of younglings being led by Adi Gallia. Smiling at the Jedi children, endeared to all the sweet little faces, she nodded hello. Gallia nodded kindly back, then looked to her pupils in amused expectation. They took the hint and all chorused, "Hello, Miss Sabé."

Working in the Temple so often, almost everyone knew who she was at this point. "Hello, children," she returned pleasantly. As she passed them, her smile grew a little more conflicted. She remembered when Zana was that small.

Sabé entered into the war room at last. The space was kept dark, and a rounded blue Holobay glowed softly. Around its edges, there were typically Jedi Hologram forms visible. Currently, the display was empty. Just Windu was present in the flesh, a thoughtful and stern frown on his face as he leaned with two hands against the rim and stared into the center of the blue glow unseeingly. When she entered in, he came out of his trance. "Nebira. Good." As she came to stand opposite of him, he looked back into the empty blue display. "Obi-Wan has made contact with Grievous and the attack is under way." A nervous twinge jumped in Sabé's veins at the mention of Obi-Wan. "I've sent Anakin to tell Palpatine the news and gauge his reaction."

Nodding gauntly, Sabé thought quickly. "Good. I'll let my people know," she said, then let a tentative pause commence before she dared ask. "Do… you have any specifics on General Kenobi's situation?"

Windu fixed her with an austere look and stood to his full height. "Do you want to know for yourself, or for your department?" he asked. She said nothing, merely looking down cooly. This was a moment when keeping her mouth shut would be very wise. Across the Holobay, Windu gazed at her in a way that seemed mistrustful. "Obi-Wan will be fine, Agent. He's one of the best we have. But you already know that." There was a challenge and an unspoken accusation in the words. Sabé did not take the bait, if that's what it was. She kept her mouth shut. Windu was hard to read, but remained focused. "Now let's go over the incoming Kashyyyk intelligence." He hailed Master Yoda, and the infoshare began.

* * *

Later, Sabé splashed the ice cold water onto her face in the huge, multi-stall RDI fresher and looked into her reflection at the mirror over the sink. An exhausted face with tired eyes stared back. After the war-room brief with Windu, she'd come straight back to RDI, tried to contact Braxis about checking in on the feed of Palpatine and Anakin, but had not been able to get a hold of him. She'd then gone to the last meeting of the day in Isard's councilroom but just a few minutes ago, the meeting had been interrupted mysteriously and all lower ranking agents had been dismissed. While something about the suddenly-ended meeting left Sabé unsettled, she wasn't entirely coherent today anyway and had decided to just take it in stride. She wanted to go home, but Isard's last directive as the meeting came to its abrupt end had been that all present agents were to stay in-complex until they received word that they were free to go. Something about it all was off, but Sabé had other priorities weighing on her mind. She needed to get a hold of Braxis, who _still_ hadn't returned her several messages.

Bent over to grip the sink like she was, the yellow Kyber crystal around her neck suddenly popped free out from the layers it had been concealed under. Sabé took hold of the small crystal, meaning to tuck it back into the lower collar of her jumpsuit, then realized… it was ever so faintly _glowing_. Straightening in surprise, Sabé looked at the object in heightening confusion. It had never _glowed_. Only caught the light. Chirrut's words ran through her mind again. _Mother of light._ She looked at herself in the mirror again, then the crystal.

A sudden, strange thought came over her… Chirrut's words, the newly daily nausea, her general feeling of being off this week… all signs that could point to one scenario. Sabé scoffed and immediately shut that idea down. Impossible. She was on the prevention implant. _I just need to see a medic. I probably have some kind of virus or exhaustion or something._ Still, it did open up an entirely new school of contemplation. Sabé briefly pictured herself as a mother—and Obi-Wan a father. A surprisingly soft, sweet feeling came over her. She'd never seen herself as being in a committed longterm relationship, let alone as a mother, but… she found herself incredibly open to the idea, especially if it were with Obi-Wan. Almost wistful for it momentarily, brief imagined glimpses of a simple family life together floated across her mind.

Her comlink went off just then, demanding her thoughts shift. Someone was requesting an audio transmission. Shaking herself of sentimental nonsense and hurrying out of the fresher (noise carried too well in there for privacy to be possible), Sabé answered the hail lowly. A familiar, if unexpected voice came through: "Agent Nebira, Master Gallia here." Surprised because Gallia had never been one of her contacts, Sabé's stride stuttered briefly. Then stopped altogether: "Windu and several other Masters are on their way to go arrest Palpatine without the Council's approval."

" _What_?!" Sabé stood wide-eyed in the hallway outside of the fresher. " _Why_?" Realizing the 'why' didn't matter, she began charging, heading for her office as quickly as possible. "Master Gallia, you _cannot let him_ do this!" she hissed, trying to keep her voice down. The halls weren't as full as usual, but still—ears and eyes everywhere. "Without an arrest warrant, without putting the evidence out there that we have, it won't look good—this will play in Palpatine's favor! What is he _thinking_!?"

"I agree with you," Gallia's worried voice returned. "He would not listen to me, and several other Masters disagreed with his choice too. We told him not to, and he said we would have to stop him ourselves. I tried contacting Master Yoda but he couldn't be reached."

Sabé let out a heavy and provoked huff. She'd always thought Windu was so measured and reasonable… if also unpleasant and cantankerous. This move seemed to indicate ego. Or desperation. "I'll check if I can see what's happening," Sabé promised, quashing down her temper, and not for the first time feeling increasing frustration about not being able to locate Braxis. He was the one with access to Palpatine's feeds. "How long ago did Windu leave?"

"Ten minutes."

"Standby. I'll see what I can find out."

Sabé cut the transmission and paused—she had come to the place in this particular hallway that gave way to a multi-level atrium. She hesitated, staying back in the shadows when she saw a squad of clone troopers assembled at the first level—they were stock-still, as if waiting. More unease prickled, making the hairs on Sabé's body stand on end. The interrupted meeting—a clone trooper squadron where it never should be—agents told to stay present. Something was off about this. She began to back up quietly, her instincts telling her to tread carefully.

" _Psst_!"

Sabé whirled, reaching for her weapon… then stopped short at the last second. Braxis. He had a certain look about him—wild eyed, alarmed, barely holding himself together. "You need to come with me, _now_ ," he said in the most intense low voice imaginable.

He gave her no choice, grabbing onto her forearm and pulling her along with him. Jogging to keep up with his stride, Sabé snatched her arm back. "Where the _kriff_ have you _been_?" She demanded in an irate, alarmed whisper.

"That's what you're worried about?" Braxis asked furiously, still being as furtive as possible while clearly freaking out. He all but pushed her into another corridor and then into his office, sealing the double-security enforced door behind them. It was a tiny and hoarded space, remarkably dingy feeling when compared to the rest of RDI and its polished floors, smooth surfaces, and monochrome color palette. Braxis had multiple feeds on multiple screens going at his tech console, and jam-packed into every last shelf and crevice there were machine parts, motherboards, wires, and other various tech baubles. He even had storage pods installed into the ceiling, no doubt filled with more junk. Not one single piece of space was wasted. But it made the office feel claustrophobic.

"What the _hell_ is going on?" Sabé demanded.

Braxis was grabbing a backpack and beginning to throw things into it seemingly at random. "Did you not see those clones?" he demanded, almost sweating at this point from the panic he was in. "Isard is gonna _kill us_. Anyone he even slightly doesn't trust is already as good as dead—they're about to clean house and we don't wanna be here when they do!"

Sabé's eyebrows rose. While she agreed things were suspect, her fellow agent's idea of what was going on seemed too crazy to be true. That, and she didn't _want_ to believe it. "Braxis, come on…" He'd always been a conspiracy theorist, but sometimes his theories went _too_ far.

Braxis tossed a couple last things into his pack. "I can't get in touch with any of the others," he continued intensely then zipped his pack shut fast, shouldering it quickly. "Stay if you want, but this is it, Nebira. _This is it_!"

His antics, his red face, his sweaty appearance, his labored breathing were all convincing, enough to make her start to believe maybe he _was_ right. Then Sabé noticed one of the smaller screens with a security feed on it. Palpatine's office. She drifted closer, then became horrified as she could make out the details. A massacre was visible—Windu and a handful of other Jedi against Palpatine, who had a lightsaber of his own. He was ruthlessly cutting the Jedi down as if it were the easiest thing imaginable to do—flipping, parrying, and dodging around like he was a young man, not the middle-aged one he actually was. His saber was difficult to catch sight of, it was moving so quickly in the lethal, Force-assisted dance of death. "Oh my gods," Sabé breathed in horror, and Braxis came to her side to stare too. Sabé began shaking her head in a nightmarish trance as Palpatine cut down two more Masters like it was nothing. In her veins, the blood ran cold with fear. "I… have to tell the Temple." Palpatine _was_ the Sith Lord. She immediately attempted to open up a hail frequency to get a hold of Adi Gallia… then was met with very sobering, terrifying news indeed. With wide eyes, she looked at Braxis. "My comlink's not working," she whispered in shock.

Braxis was right. Isard was about to kill them all.

At that exact second, all the lights went off and a tell-tale winding down sound indicated all the power to the building had been cut. Sabé's stomach went numb with panic. "Oh no," Braxis breathed, then Sabé could hear him pull his blaster out. Hers was already in her hand. He switched on his attached flashlight nearly the same time Sabé switched on hers. The beams hitting the ceiling and wall lit the room in an eerie, stark way. Dust particulates floated across the flimsy shafts of light. "We're gonna have to fight our way out, Nebira," Braxis whispered grimly, then urgently handed her a small Holofile meant to be inserted into a display device. "Here."

Taking the small object, Sabé looked at it uncertainly. It had no label. "What's this?"

"All the evidence we've collected over the years," Braxis relayed in quiet intensity, drawing her surprise. "Names, details, locations, events—Palpatine's network of allies. _Our_ network of allies." All the things the group had agreed never to store or write down. Sabé would have been angry about it… prior to this moment. Now, she realized Daggoth, Rett, and Leda might be dead already. Jego too. Braxis tapped his front pocket urgently. "I have a copy too," he said. "So one of us _has_ to survive this, understand? We can't let what we know die with us!" He set her with the most grave look he could. "One of us has to live to see this, this, _rebellion_ get off the ground," he said, growing more and more impassioned by dismay and fear by the second. "Swear it. _Swear it_!"

Sabé nodded once, having a hard time not freaking out, too. His keyed up behavior made it incredibly hard to stay calm. "I swear."

Braxis scrambled around then produced two pairs of night vision goggles, thrusting one at Sabé. Somewhere not too far away, there was a sudden staccato of blaster fire—screams—a yell, more blaster sounds… then eerie, piercing silence returned. Braxis and Sabé looked at each other in alarmed understanding. "We need to go. _Now_." Braxis whispered, and it was an incredibly loud sound against the silence.

With goggles on and weapons ready, they slipped out of his office. The hallway was completely dark and empty, and they ran as silently as possible down it. "We'll make for the roof," Braxis whispered as they paused at a junction, watching a group of five clones march away from them then take a turn down a further hallway. "There's transports up on the Sector Six area."

Sabé nodded an affirmative, then gave the go-ahead and they raced across the hall junction to the other side, proceeding with caution. This hallway had many corridors off of it. Weapon drawn now in preparation of meeting an enemy at any turn, Sabé cleared three corridors with Braxis at her back. Then came to the fourth one. The second she stepped into the corridor to clear it, she was met with the sight of Astrid Ka, Isard's second in command—holding a blaster level with Sabé's chest. She had on night vision goggles, too. Before Sabé had even a microsecond to process or pull the trigger on her own weapon, a blast that did not come from her weapon sounded, and Sabé jumped, gasping and breathless, sure she'd been shot. But she didn't feel any pain… confused, she stared into Astrid's face, which crumpled. Ka looked down at herself, then fell over. Behind her, wielding a blaster that was still smoking gently… a very grim Rett Chronos. He was in night googles of his own. Shocked, Sabé gaped, even as Rett gave a grim nod to her and then Braxis, too.

For once, Braxis didn't bother with their rivalry. Just nodded back, a certain measure of gratitude and respect there. "Come on," he said, and the three of them continued onward and upward, bound for the roof. It took them more than a half hour to work their way out together—choosing to sneak instead of confront, since sounding an alarm would not increase their chances of survival. They glimpsed several executions take place, and heard a few firefights as well. Once they finally made it to the rooftop Sector Six exit, they found a small group of clones guarding the exit. One thermal detonator later, their escape was nearly complete and the agents made a run for it, bursting out into the Coruscant night and gunning down the few other clones that were outside, guarding the roof. Short on time, Rett chose the first vehicle he saw, vaulting into the pilot's seat of a small six-person speeder. Braxis jumped into the passenger seat. Even as it started up and raised as the repulsors fired, Sabé stopped, stood back, then looked over the skyline to her right, pulling her goggles off and discarding them. The Temple.

"Nebira, come on!" Rett called urgently.

She shook her head no, peeling her eyes off of the familiar structure that wasn't that far away. She knew what she needed to do. "You go. I'm going to the Temple."

"Why the hell would you go there?!" Braxis asked, angrily getting out of the speeder to argue with her. "That's gonna be a _bloodbath_!"

That was _exactly_ why she was going there. Sabé was already making for her vehicle of choice: a swoopbike that was just a few feet away. "There might still be enough time to warn the Jedi there," she replied with urgent determination, kicking the vehicle into gear and gunning the engine. "Or to get them out. You— _go_!"

Braxis opened his mouth to reply—then was struck by a sudden, brutal barrage of laserfire. Clones poured out from the exit they agents had just escaped from. Already returning fire sloppily as a scream of ' _no_ ' tore out of her mouth, Sabé realized she had little choice. She and Rett made their separate shaky, hasty escapes off the rooftop with laserbolts hot on their heels even as Braxis hit the ground, dead before he ever made impact.

* * *

Wind rushed against Sabé and she squinted and wiped tears off her face with the heel of a palm, fighting to compose herself against the reality of what was happening. Rett had gone an opposite direction, and Sabé guessed she would not see him again. Trying her comlink again, she was again met by dead air. It was an RDI commissioned comlink, so it stood to reason that it would never work again. The possibility that it could have a tracker in it struck Sabé and so she ripped it off and dropped it into the city below. She approached the Temple at great heights, and saw below an enormous clone battalion numbering perhaps close to a thousand approaching the main Temple entrance. A single dark-cloaked figure led them in. Was that Sidious? Sabé couldn't tell, but gunned her bike faster with a skyrocketing pulse, knowing that she didn't have much time to enter before the exits would become closed. The back of the Temple was flanked by another thousand or so clones, and the odds were sickening, sending the kind of terror Sabé hadn't experienced since the Battle for Naboo. How would the public ever accept this atrocity? How could Palpatine ever justify this? The intent was clear: the Jedi were being exterminated.

Sabé feared so greatly for Obi-Wan in that moment. She swung into the hangar bay, her RDI badge giving her clearance to the droids that operated it. She hit the ground running, but once she exited the hangar, she could already hear telltale sounds of a firefight. Sabé quickly ran toward a main hall where she could see a flurry of motion: a small sea of Jedi, all running toward the sounds of their invaders. That was the precise moment that Sabé realized she didn't know what she could possibly do in this situation to help. The Jedi would not run away—they would stand and fight. For a brief moment, she considering seeing about finding a communication station and attempting to contact Obi-Wan—then, above the flurry of movement in the hall she stood in, Sabé glimpsed a small someone peering down over the next level's edge. Recognition dawned. Cutting across the hall and running up the stairs two at a time, she found a small, afraid blonde Jedi youngling.

"Sors! Sors, isn't it?" she asked, out of breath and glancing around for others. It was only him.

He nodded, answering in a very proper accent. "Yes, Miss Sabé." He sounded deeply afraid. He was perhaps six or seven years old.

"Where are the other younglings?" Sabé asked, crouching down to his level, both to hide herself better and to communicate with him better.

"Some of the older ones went to fight, the rest of us are hiding in there," he said bravely, but his anxiety was still obvious.

"And where is Master Gallia?"

That was the question Sors couldn't take in stride. His chin wobbled. "I d-don't know," the boy said, beginning to cry. "Miss Sabé, what's happening?"

The sounds of laserfire were closer now. And if Sabé's ears didn't deceive her, she heard the hum of a lightsaber, too—then the clash of laserswords whining against each other. Time was of the essence. "What's happening is we're getting out of here, but not without the others," Sabé said quickly, then indicated he show her where they were. Sors took her down a smaller corridor to a small training and guidance room. Behind the chairs, about twelve younglings from ages four to eight all emerged with scared, wide eyes. Different species and genders, all wearing little Jedi tunics, none of them yet had weapons. Sabé quickly told them to stay close, they had to be quiet and fast. She had to carry the youngest one, a Togruta male, because he was so paralyzed in fearfulness.

They managed to take side passages quickly enough that they got to the hangar without issue and without encounter. Once in the hangar, Sabé sealed entrance door behind them and shot the console so that it wouldn't open again. The bay was still open to the outside world—the clones hadn't yet established a perimeter. If they were to escape, it had to be now. Even as Sabé looked around at the various ships available and realized the very nature of their Jedi markings would cause them to be a target—a speeder suddenly dropped down gracefully from above and stopped to hover just at the edge of where the hangar bay ended. Her heart leapt when she recognized who it was.

Rett smiled thinly, his eyes haunted by the pain of losing Braxis. "Figured you might need some help," he said to Sabé, then indicated they come quickly. "Come on kids, get on in here."

Overwhelmed with gratitude and hope, Sabé ushered the younglings quickly over toward the speeder, one at a time picking up and handing them to Rett over the vast drop below them. They were on the ninth child when a loud explosion shook the entire space. Sabé almost lost her grip on the child she was passing over—a little olive skinned girl. Turning with the child still tight and safe in her arms, Sabé was greeted by a shocking sight.

"Master Skywalker!" Sors exclaimed, at first sounding relieved, then quickly backing up a couple of steps to stand against Sabé's legs as fear overcame his expression. There were four children not yet loaded into the speeder, including him.

Framed by the smoking, molten door that had been destroyed in the blast, Anakin wore his hood up and his face was a mask of pain, anger, and sickness. He didn't look like himself. And then it all happened so fast. Anakin raised a gloved hand, his expression terrible—and with a force like a great wind, the little girl was ripped away from Sabé, and Sors went flying, too. Helplessly, screaming, Sabé watched as Sors and the three other children who had not yet gotten into the speeder were blown off the floor of the hangar and tossed like garbage into the void, plummeting to sure death below. "No, _no_!" Sabé screamed at the top of her lungs hysterically, followed by, "Go, go, Rett, _GO_!"

The speeder was already jetting off, and Anakin reached a hand out to stop them—but then he had to turn and deal with Sabé when she unloaded a torrent of desperate blasterfire straight at his head. He stopped the bolts _with his hands,_ where they buzzed in the air uselessly, inches from his face. With a dark, sinister glare at her, he stepped aside, letting the bolts go where they screamed into a nearby wall harmlessly. He flicked his wrist, and Sabé's blaster went out the hangar, just like the children had a moment ago.

Sabé was almost out of her mind with rage, grief, and horror. "What have you _done_?!" she cried.

Anakin's voice was terrible and powerful. "What have _you_ done?!" he accused, approaching her roughly then grabbing her by the front of her jumpsuit. He lifted easily, letting her feet dangle above the ground. "Did you know the Jedi's plans to overthrow the Chancellor? To overpower the Senate?! Are you and Obi-Wan working together? _What do you know?_ "

Cowed by fearfulness, Sabé shook her head, trying to get a hold of herself, trying not to panic. "T-the Jedi never wanted to overthrow the Chancellor—they wanted to stop injustice," she answered truthfully, searching for any sign of the Anakin she knew in the face glaring at her now.

Her words only served to ramp him up further. "The true injustice is the corrupt Order of religious, self-righteous Jedi thinking they know best for the galaxy!" Anakin seethed, then tossed her down onto the ground roughly.

Had he always felt this way? What had happened to the Anakin she thought she knew? It didn't make sense to her—she couldn't comprehend it—but she'd just seen him kill children without hesitation. She looked up at him without standing or moving, realizing she was negotiating with a terrorist. "Anakin, you can still stop," she said, not sure if she believed the words she was saying. "You can walk away. Y-you don't have to do this."

He towered over her forebodingly. "Pathetic," he spat, which only served to hurt and mystify her more.

"Are you going to kill me?" Sabé asked, dealing with her own growing anger. How had no one seen this coming? What had possessed Anakin to do these things?! "What will your story to Padmé be?" she demanded, watching as Anakin began to pace, a murderous affect to his expression. "And what would the mother of your children say if she knew how you just killed innocent _children?_ " she asked, putting every bit of hatred she felt into her words.

That set him off. "Spare me the theatrics!" Anakin replied hotly. "Everyone must die in life! Those children perished before they could become traitors—I _saved_ them from a fate of being on the run!" He sounded convinced of his own horrific viewpoint. Sabé slowly stood up on shaky legs as Anakin continued to go on, revealing his terrifying agenda. "The new Emperor is cleansing the galaxy of all threats to peace and justice." _Emperor_? Palpatine's grand plan all made sense now, and Sabé was absolutely crushed. _We were too late._ Anakin set her with a morbid look. "All Jedi must die."

"You're a Jedi!" Sabé protested, still not understanding.

He was terrifyingly placid. "Not anymore," he declared. "And now, I will hunt down and _kill_ every last one." He glared at her, and she didn't recognize the man in front of her. "Including those children you just took out of my grasp. You only have yourself to blame for their deaths now."

Completely beside herself, Sabé felt powerless and blindsided by this absolute nightmare. "How can you say that?" she asked, her voice nearly gone from the shock of it all. "Anakin, please—" she begged, her throat closing against the threat of astonished, fearful tears.

"Anakin is gone," he replied harshly. "He was weak and foolish, and with every Jedi whose life I take, I have killed Anakin even further." He looked at her with cold, glittering eyes.

Chilled to the bone with terror, Sabé's voice lowered to a whisper. "Could you really kill Obi-Wan?" she asked, thinking surely— _surely_ —Anakin would falter. Would come to his senses. Would jolt out of whatever possession he was under.

Anakin clenched his jaw and looked away before visibly shoring himself up and attempting to appear impenetrable. "If he's still alive… _gladly,_ " he said, approaching Sabé slowly and making her shrink. "The Jedi are weak. I am powerful now, more powerful than them all! They will not take this from me!" He looked over her thoroughly, his eyes probing like lasers… then he paused when he came to her stomach area, lingering there for a long, confused second then glancing at her in what looked like disgust and rage. "You're _pregnant,_ " he spat, accusing and scandalized, almost affronted. "With _his_ child, I'm sure!"

It was like the air had been taken out of the room. "…What?" Sabé whispered softly, even more horrified than a moment prior. Instinctively, a protective hand came to touch the front of her torso, even as Anakin seethed.

"If Obi-Wan _is_ alive, I'm sure he'll come looking for the mother of his unborn child," he said darkly, then closed a hand around her throat, cutting off her air supply completely even as she struggled to break his grip, to breathe, to survive. The last thing she saw before she lost consciousness was his face loomed in front of hers, promising terrible things. "You're coming with me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who figured out or suspected Sabé was pregnant? they conceived the day that Obi-Wan returned from the Outer Rim Sieges… (I know that, but they don't, lol.) Now Sabé knows. Obi-Wan… soon to follow…?
> 
> FYI: Canon says Adi Gallia was killed during the Clone Wars but since I decided to keep the Darth Maul return out of all these storylines (I prefer the idea of him staying hidden until after the Empire is formed), she survived… until Order 66.


	37. Dawn of the Empire

Falling, falling… Obi-Wan was haunted by the sensation. The principle shot fired at him by his troopers had caused him confusion. _They must have mis-fired—_ his initial naive thought. Then came the second shot, and he'd known. Understood, no. Known, yes. Even as the varactyl he'd been riding keened in dismay and lost her grip in the climb, a shock of absolute horror had coursed through Obi-Wan, leaving him betrayed as he'd rocketed toward the deep waters waiting below. Hitting their surface had sent him down deep into what felt like a cold, silent grave. He existed in a world he no longer understood, and his questions outnumbered the thousands of little swirling bubbles that his impact had created. Laserfire on the water's surface so high above his head chopped and screamed, trying to kill him if the fall had not. A lesson on heartbreak: His own troops—even _Cody_ —were attempting to assassinate him.

Obi-Wan opened his eyes back up to the cold blankness of space. Only it wasn't empty anymore. His stolen ship—Grievous' personal fighter—was completing the last leg of its auto-pilot directives. Ahead, Bail Organa's ship waited, a symbol of hope and safety in the suddenly upside down galaxy. _Tantive III._ Bail had said in their brief Holo exchange that he'd just rescued Master Yoda as well. It appeared that the clones had ambushed their Jedi commanders across the entire galaxy. Surely, it couldn't be true…

For the twentieth or so time, Obi-Wan again tried hailing Sabé's comm. He knew the frequency by heart. But just like all the other times, the communication wouldn't go through. Dread pooled deep in his veins, but he refused to even consider any kind of possibility that didn't include her being safe. A cunning warrior and resourceful ally, Sabé was all right. He had to believe it. Yet unease turned his stomach, rendering him sick at heart and body alike. He needed to hear her voice—he needed to know for himself. The Force rippled around him, urging him to breathe and center himself. Obi-Wan obeyed as best he could.

Switching off of auto pilot, Obi-Wan made to dock the unwieldy Feethan fighter in the belly of _Tantive III_ , a task not made easy for how counter-intuitive the ship controls felt to the jaded Jedi Master. Once the hangar floor had locked into place and sealed with a hiss, Obi-Wan peeled himself out of the fighter and slid down the smooth hull to solid ground beneath his feet. Bail Organa was hurrying toward him, a dapper cape and elegantly designed tunic giving the tall man a princely appearance. Behind him, Yoda leaned on his gimer stick, waiting in a corridor entrance where the rest of the ship could be accessed.

"You made it!" Bail greeted, clasping one of Obi-Wan's hands with both of his briefly. Obi-Wan could not summon the strength to grasp in kind.

"Master Kenobi." Yoda greeted solemnly as the men approached. "With the help of the Wookiees, barely escaped from Kashyyyk, I did."

"My troopers turned on me shortly after I killed Grievous," Obi-Wan replied, barely believing his own words despite how he had been there in the actual scenario. It was unthinkable. "How many other Jedi managed to survive?" Obi-Wan asked through a dry mouth.

Yoda shook his head once, and his troubled emotional state was betrayed by his expression. "Heard from no one, have we." Words that caused a sinking sensation.

"I saw thousands of troops attack the Jedi Temple," Bail said, drawing an ill, astonished gaze from Obi-Wan. "That's why I went looking for any who might need rescue."

 _Thousands_ of troops attacking their peaceful sanctuary—Obi-Wan's chest constricted at the news. "Have we had any contact from the Temple?" he asked, daring to hope but afraid to allow himself to go that far.

"Received a coded retreat message, we have," Yoda said, lowering his head in what seemed something adjacent to defeat. Dread prickled the back of Obi-Wan's neck.

"It requests all Jedi to return to the Temple," Bail added contemptuously. "It says that the war is over."

Seized by alarm and urgency to act, Obi-Wan looked between both parties with widened eyes. "Well then we must go back!" he insisted. "If there are other stragglers, they will fall into the trap and be killed!"

"It's too dangerous to return," Bail replied, sounding surprised Obi-Wan would even suggest a thing.

"We must," Obi-Wan replied, leaving no room for disagreement. And if he had to, he would go by himself. He wet his lips briefly, on to the next order of business quickly. He had other reasons for his determination to return to Coruscant. Reasons every bit as important. "Has anyone had contact with Sabé?"

Bail blinked in slight surprise at the change of subject, then shook his head regretfully. "No, I have not—I'll admit, I did try and hail her when all of this happened. No reply came." Obi-Wan's stomach leadened further. And then, more terrible news: "There were reports… of some sort of uprising within the RDI headquarters. Clone troopers apparently were called in to handle quite a few traitors who staged an internal attack. According to the media." He obviously knew it was false information.

"Stars alive," Obi-Wan breathed out hollowly, his hope becoming a candle wick just blown out. It couldn't be. It _couldn't_ be! Their own army, turned against them. The Temple attacked, the Department too—Sabé at ground zero and caught somewhere in the lethal middle. Had she survived? Been imprisoned? Even as Obi-Wan spiraled internally, needing to lean an arm against the nearby wall for support, Yoda looked at him in utter sadness.

"Look, I don't know if either of you know this, but Sabé was working as an informant of sorts," Bail said cautiously. "A double agent, perhaps is the best way of saying it."

"Aware, we are," Yoda confirmed.

Bail nodded, eyeing Obi-Wan uncertainly. "I know there were—are—others, too. So then you can imagine that if Palpatine found out—" he began, but Obi-Wan held up a hasty, pleading hand, unwilling to hear the rest of Bail's theory.

"Please, don't—I can't think of that prospect." Obi-Wan swallowed thickly, lost in the terrible possibilities. His voice hitched, giving away his vast, deep emotion surrounding the subject of Sabé. "I… cannot allow myself to speculate like that." Even though he already helplessly was.

Bail gave the smallest apologetic nod, his eyes curious at the most raw display of emotion he'd ever seen from the famously always composed Obi-Wan Kenobi. "I'm sorry Master Kenobi. I know the two of you are very dear friends." 'Very dear friends' caused Obi-Wan to exhale helplessly, a sound like a silent dry sob. He looked away, trying to preserve his own dignity.

"What about Anakin?" Obi-Wan asked after a very concentrated effort to remain measured.

Bail sadly shook his head no, adding to Obi-Wan's growing dismay.

"Return to Coruscant, we shall," Yoda concluded after a moment, but he was troubled. "In a dark place we find ourselves... a little more knowledge might light our way." He limped closer to Obi-Wan, putting a comforting green hand onto the side of the other Jedi's knee briefly. Then elderly green Master turned and hobbled down the corridor. Bail followed after after a few silent seconds of deliberating Obi-Wan in empathetic concern.

Obi-Wan remained where he was, and when the other two had disappeared into the cockpit together, he sank to a crouch as his palms caught his face. _Force help me, I don't know how to take all of this._

* * *

**Later**

In a terrible dream, Obi-Wan slid the code vector back into the Jedi Temple mainframe. Around him, the energy core sparkled brilliant jade green and blue. "I've recalibrated the code warning all surviving Jedi to stay away," he said softly, mind elsewhere. Everything was a grim, dark blur.

"Good… for the clones to discover the recalibration, a long time it will take."

Obi-Wan felt himself looking back at Master Yoda, but his eyes were unseeing and glazed over by all the horrors he'd witnessed. Just yesterday, the Temple had been a haven. A safe tower in the storm. A guiding light in the darkness. And as of today, it had been gutted, pillaged, and left half burned, the smoke still rising high into the Coruscant sky. Stripped bare of life to be left a skeleton, all that was left were the ashes of what once was. The galaxy's peacekeepers had been ruthlessly, mercilessly executed, and grief drowned him. The halls, such a reverent and peaceful place prior were now strewn with bodies of the dead—making the Temple into an enormous tomb. The rooms of learning and meditation all becoming mausoleums: Jedi from ages of eight and upward, all cut and shot down, left heartlessly to rot. Many of the fallen were Obi-Wan's friends. Many of them he'd spoken to not even a day ago. And many of them bore the chilling, telltale signs of lightsaber wounds. The youngest of the younglings were the only ones missing from the body count. Not for the first time that day, Obi-Wan found his eyes tearing up. Such senseless atrocity. And he hadn't been able to stop it, he hadn't even been _aware._ Survivor's guilt. This was what he was feeling. And it demolished him completely.

Thank the Force Anakin hadn't been among the dead. With every new body they'd come across, Obi-Wan had steeled himself for it to be the young man who was perhaps the closest thing to family that he had. Anakin was powerful, strong, and after the war, had become a seasoned warrior who understood tactics and when to retreat. Perhaps he'd escaped and gone into hiding. Perhaps he'd turn up soon. That would be a miracle and a blessing. In any scenario, Obi-Wan had to trust that young Skywalker could fend for himself and evade the assassination attempts. The alternative was too unspeakable.

However, when it came to his thoughts of Sabé… Obi-Wan was only growing more and more emotionally cagey. The moment they'd arrived on Coruscant, his thoughts had been with her, and his urges had been on overdrive to find her. He'd been afraid to find her body in the Temple just like he'd been afraid to find Anakin's—there was the off-chance that she'd been here at the time. Their search hadn't been exhaustive, but it had been thorough enough to leave them to believe no one had survived the attack. _No one_. Obi-Wan's thoughts strayed to what Bail had said about RDI headquarters. He then blinked, realizing he had been staring blankly. Yoda was patient—and sad. Finding himself deeply within the territory of divided loyalties—something he had always warned Anakin about—Obi-Wan's desperation escaped him. "Master, I need to find Sabé," he said, no longer able to sit on his urgency to act or caring how his desires might make him look. "I must know what's happened to her."

Yoda's eyes darted over the general area unseeingly. "Been here, she has. Sense it, I do." He crunched down a little in ever-bleaker posture, as if to wince away from something threatening. "Very dark. Very, very dark."

Obi-Wan felt a flicker of frustration and resistance. "Well she's here all the time, Master. I sense it too."

Yoda shook his head, remaining alarmingly steadfast. "No… something else. The security feeds, we should access. See who led this charge, we must."

A natural progression to make, and agreeing, Obi-Wan swept back into the control room from the mainframe. The sooner they knew this, the sooner he could go find Sabé. He descended into the sunken tech station on one side of the complex and located the security feeds, choosing the central hall first, expecting to see Palpatine leading the charge. And what he saw left him unable to take in even the smallest inhale.

 _Anakin_.

With dead eyes and expressions that transitioned from bored to hate-filled, Obi-Wan's Padawan—who he had trained from boyhood into manhood—brutally destroyed every Jedi he met. Flanked by hundreds of clones, he proceeded into the Temple with only one task: killing all Order members he came across. Even the young ones. Even the children. Suspended in a nightmare that rendered him unable to move, barely able to speak or breathe, Obi-Wan felt as if he'd gone numb, even though the entirety of his body had gone cold with pain and denial. "It can't be…" he breathed, breaking inside as recorded images continued to show him what Anakin had done. He took a small, helpless step back. "It _can't_ be…"

And yet it was.

Anakin suddenly stopped his work, his head whipping to look sideways, and then he stalked off, as if intent on a new target, preying on it. The security camera feed switched to the Jedi hangar, and Obi-Wan, yet again, was not prepared for what he saw.

 _Sabé_.

And with her, the youngest of the younglings. She was evacuating them! And even as a small instance of hope and relief rose, even as his heart burst, Obi-Wan realized that Anakin was making his way to her very position. His mind screamed—begging her to move faster, pleading with her to escape in time. And then Anakin appeared, and dread overtook. And when he did what he did next, Obi-Wan felt a small part of himself die forever. As if they were nothing but pests, Anakin Force pushed the younglings in the hangar off the edge, even as Sabé screamed and uselessly fumbled to hold onto the one ripped from her arms. _No. Not the younglings. Please!_ Powerless, his breaths ragged, horror creating rifts across his entire face, Obi-Wan was prisoner to watch the events unfolding before him: Anakin attempting to bring down the escaping speeder to kill the other escaping younglings, Sabé attacking him and allowing the speeder to get away—Anakin's incredible display of power in stopping the laserbolts she fired at him with his mind, rather than deflect them with his saber. Even in the low-res footage, the murder in Anakin's eyes was clear. Their brief exchange revealed the gutwrenching lunacy Anakin believed in. He accused Sabé of being complicit in a Jedi plot to overthrow the Chancellor—now Emperor. He threw her onto the ground and demanded to know if Obi-Wan was involved. He condemned the Order. He spat out that Sabé was pathetic. He swore to hunt down and kill every last living Jedi… even the young ones Sabé had just saved. Tears filled Obi-Wan's eyes as his soul was crushed into absolute dust. Not Anakin. Anyone but him. How had this _happened?!_

" _Anakin, please—"_ Sabé begged.

" _Anakin is gone,"_ came the furious reply _. "He was weak and foolish, and with every Jedi whose life I take, I have killed Anakin even further!"_

Her trembling tears were audible, killing a part of Obi-Wan as he remained helpless against changing what had already transpired. _"Could you really kill Obi-Wan?"_ she asked in heartbroken incredulity.

The answer was chilling to the bones." _If he's still alive…_ gladly _. The Jedi are weak. I am powerful now, more powerful than them all! They will not take this from me!"_ Not for the first time that day, Obi-Wan's heart cracked again, pain the only sensation he stepped closer to Sabé, who'd stood up again, and Obi-Wan's pulse raced with the nauseating, crippling fear that he was about to see Sabé die. Then, Anakin made a face as if he were disgusted and shocked, appalled even. And the last thing Obi-Wan ever expected to hear rang: _"You're_ pregnant! _"_ Anakin exclaimed, scandalized, infuriated. _"With_ his _child, I'm sure!"_

… _Pregnant?_ Even as Obi-Wan reeled, mentally trying to catch hold of any small thing that would keep him from falling over a cliff of total despair—Anakin reached out and choked Sabé, telling her that if Obi-Wan still lived, he would surely come find the mother of his unborn child. _No! Stop! Please!_ Obi-Wan's mind screamed useless protests even as Sabé went limp and the footage switched back to the decimation in the main hall. Staggered, Obi-Wan collapsed on the two stairs leading down into the control panel, breathing hard against a heartbeat so rapid he felt faint. A child? Their child? _Pregnant_. It made sense now. Sabé's complaints all this week of nausea. How fatigued she'd been. _Oh Sabé, oh Sabé I'm so sorry…_ it was too much to take, it was too much to carry. How? She'd been on the prevention implant! And now there was not just one life he had to save. There were two. _How did I not notice?_

Yoda, who Obi-Wan had forgotten about, was grim. "Noticed I did, on the day she told us about the group," he said, peering at Obi-Wan empathetically and sadly. "Knew she was pregnant, you did not?"

Hollow, spinning, never having been so horrified his whole life, Obi-Wan could only shake his head as tears freely streaked his cheeks. "No." Unable to move, Obi-Wan watched in a daze as Yoda approached and scrubbed through the security footage, finding what could perhaps be called the grand finale. Anakin stood surveying the carnage, and a dark robed figure entered—Anakin turned to kneel. "The traitors have been taken care of, Lord Sidious."

Palpatine was nearly unrecognizable, even with just the lower half of his face showing under the obscuring hood shadowing his features. "Good… good… you have done well, my new apprentice," he said in a ghastly, wicked voice the likes of which Obi-Wan had never heard before. "Do you feel your power growing?"

"Yes, my Master," Anakin answered readily.

There was a low, pleased chuckle. "Now, Lord Vader, Rise. Go, and bring peace to the Empire."

Obi-Wan turned his head, destroyed in every last way. "I cannot see more," he whispered, an unspoken plea for Yoda to turn it off. Make it stop. The pain was so great, it felt as though he could die from it.

Yoda cut the recording and turned soberly. "Still your emotions, Obi-Wan," he counseled gently.

Useless advice. "I can't," Obi-Wan said hoarsely, understanding that no amount of help from the Force would be able to take away what he felt. "Not after seeing that. Not after learning what I've learned." His mind was racing—he had to find Anakin. He had to find Sabé. He and Yoda had to act, and quickly, before this new Empire of Palpatine's came looking for them. "We have to destroy them," he said. "Before it's too late."

"Revenge, you seek?" Yoda asked.

Obi-Wan shook his head. "Justice. An end to tyranny."

Yoda studied him closely. "Kill your former apprentice, you can?"

A question that made Obi-Wan deflate. The thought was vile to him. But what other way could possibly exist? Could Anakin be saved? "I don't know."

As if Yoda knew his thoughts, there was a final shake of the head. "Gone is the boy you knew. Taken by the Dark Side, he has been."

Memories surfaced of the resistance he'd encountered when he had insisted on training the boy. And regret barreled through him like a typhoon. "You were right," Obi-Wan choked out, cursing the day he'd made the emotionally-driven choice to train Anakin in his Master's legacy. Cursing Anakin for taking up a place in his heart itself… cursing himself for believing he could train the Chosen One. Look what had happened. Look what had _happened._ And still, love ached deeply in his chest for Anakin Skywalker. And his previous declaration of wanting to kill Palpatine and Anakin fell short against his sudden realization that he was not capable. "Master Yoda, _how_?" he asked wretchedly, needing some help—some guidance— _anything_. "He is like my brother... he is like my own flesh and blood—I cannot do it."

Yoda's dark eyes reflected his own pain back to him. "Gone, everyone else is," he said in somber resignation. "Your greatest test, I fear this is." Obi-Wan's heart sunk lower than felt possible, and Yoda heaved a great, daunted sigh. "Need the Force more than ever, we do," he said, then hobbled closer and rested a clawed hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder. Peace and strength emanated from the touch, strengthening Obi-Wan, anchoring him. Able to steadily meet his Master's eyes now, he anxiously received his assignment. "Use your feelings, Obi-Wan, and find Vader… and Sabé… you will." A deeply sympathetic look rested on the wizened green master's face. "Sorry I am, for the dilemma you face," he said, then released Obi-Wan, and hobbled up the steps toward the exit to the great hall beyond, where smoke rose and bodies laid. "Now, visit the new Emperor, my task is. May the Force be with you, Master Obi-Wan." He paused, then gravely left with these last words: "Hope to see you again, I do."

And silence returned.

* * *

A fugitive and wanted man in the very place he'd always known as home, Obi-Wan procured a speederbike and made his way across Core Square, paranoia on his heels. The things he had with him—a few odds and ends from his locker in the Jedi storage room—were his only earthly possessions. The only thing he took with him from his old life into whatever new one awaited. He glimpsed RDI when he passed. While it didn't appear to be in smoking ruins like the Temple was, clones were visibly posted plentifully all over and around the structure. His chest tightened again. How quickly Palpatine had turned the tables. How flawlessly his design had come to fruition.

 _I need to get out of here as soon as possible._ Obi-Wan again tried reaching out with his senses, straining to locate Sabé or Anakin's energy. It was a fruitless endeavor. His senses told him Anakin was not here. Arriving at his destination, Obi-Wan docked the speederbike and pulled his cloak around himself again, casting furtive glances around from under his raised hood. The second he stepped foot onto the veranda he had ascended onto, an alarm went off deep within the apartment beyond. A security curtain snapped into place, preventing him from going further. Obi-Wan cast a worried look behind himself. When he peered back through the curtain, a shuffling golden protocol droid could be seen hurrying over.

"Hello, might I help you?" C3PO asked, then gave a surprised throwing of the arms. "Oh, it's you, Master Kenobi! Come in, quickly."

The security curtain disappeared, the alarm stopped sounding, and Obi-Wan was free to enter further. Grateful to retreat into the obscurity provided by the innermost depths of the luxurious veranda, Obi-Wan lifted his hood and set it back. "Has Anakin been here?" he asked the droid, eyes searching for Padmé to appear.

"Yes, right after the attack on the Jedi Temple," C3PO replied primly.

So he had come to see her after he committed his atrocities. Did she know what he had done? He couldn't imagine that. But he also couldn't have imagined what Anakin had done.

Padmé appeared at the top of the stairs in a robe, and upon seeing Obi-Wan, her expression broke, the Force surging out from around her and revealing how relieved she was to see him. Obi-Wan was relieved, too… but immediately set into more gravity about how deep this Anakin situation went. Padmé must not know. She must be in the dark still. Who knows what Anakin had told her. Padmé hurried to him, having minor difficulty moving underneath her massive skirts.

"Obi-Wan!" she murmured as she reached him, throwing her arms around him briefly in a tight, thankful hug. "Oh thank goodness you're alive!" she exclaimed as she pulled back to look him over rapidly. "Have you heard from Sabé? I can't get in touch with her—" she said, her riled up emotional state so much the same as his. "They say the Jedi were plotting to overthrow the Republic, is it true?" she asked breathlessly.

Defeated anew by this propaganda—or perhaps Anakin's lies to her—Obi-Wan was dismal and exhausted. "Of course not, Padmé."

His first words to her seemed to strike new fear into her, stilling her, quieting her. "Then what's happening?" she slowly asked.

He was just putting the devastating picture together himself. "The Chancellor is behind everything, including the war. _Palpatine_ is the Sith Lord we've been looking for." Padmé's face registered confusion—so Anakin _hadn't_ shared that with her. Or perhaps had told her otherwise. Obi-Wan could barely muster the composure required to continue. "The Republic has fallen," he trembled out. "The Jedi Order is no more—and the Sith now rule the galaxy as they did before the Republic was forged."

"The Sith?" Padmé repeated fearfully, receiving the news with unfiltered horror on her young face. Her struggle to wrap her mind around it all showed. "Well what do we do?" she asked after a second, then seemed to think of something else. "And what does this have to do with Anakin?" A sudden dawning look came over her and hushed by dread, she shrank back a step. "You're here to tell me he's been killed, aren't you?"

In some ways, he had been. "No," Obi-Wan said joylessly, turning to pace a couple of steps off and compose himself, stroke a hand over his beard, then turn once again to face Padmé, who waited tensely. "I need to find him. When was the last time you saw him?"

Padmé grew guarded. "Yesterday."

"And do you know where he is now?" Obi-Wan asked, drifting closer. Padmé avoided his gaze. _Divided loyalties_ , Obi-Wan reflected. "I need your help, I cannot do this without you—Anakin is in grave danger. And so is Sabé."

Padmé's dark eyes, so similar to Sabé's, snapped to his. "Obi-Wan, you're frightening me," she whispered.

"And you should be," Obi-Wan returned in a voice made quiet by pain. He held her gaze dismally. She deserved to know the full truth. "Padmé… Anakin has turned to the dark side."

Padmé physically recoiled, her expression showing scandal. "What?! How could you even say that?!"

Obi-Wan's eyes pricked painfully as he tried to stay calm. But memories of what he'd borne witness to flashed in his mind unbidden, torturing him. "I have seen a security hologram of him… killing younglings," he managed weakly. "Slaughtering Jedi at the Temple. And taking Sabé hostage with him." Each revelation drew more and more shocked and confused grief from the woman he stood opposite of. Obi-Wan reached out to her, taking a soft hold of her arm—begging her to help him. "Padmé, Sabé—is… she's newly with child," he said, the horror of it all hitting him over the head all over again. Padmé's eyes widened further, dismay growing. "And Anakin knew this. I saw him choke her to unconsciousness."

Stepping back, Padmé's chest heaved with emotion and horror, her eyes began to rapidly dart everywhere as she seemed to lose strength. "I can't believe this," she said, frantic to deny it. "I can't believe any of this! Anakin _wouldn't._ "

"But Vader would," Obi-Wan replied softly. The name caused Padmé to go still and cold. "That's his new name. Given to him when he abandoned the Light for the Dark." Although Padmé remained physically resistant… shaking her head no, clutching at herself, she was listening. And her expression told him she believed him, however difficult that was for her. "After the death of Count Dooku, Anakin became Palpatine's new apprentice," Obi-Wan concluded, knowing now what he had been ignorant and blind to before. "I'm so sorry."

Padmé moved to sink down to a seat on one of the nearby lounges. "Why would he do this? _Why_?" she asked, heartbreak vivid in her tone. "I don't understand…"

"I do not fully understand myself," Obi-Wan replied mournfully. "All I know is that the Dark Side is powerful. More powerful than we know."

A sudden thought occurred and Padmé whipped her head up to look at Obi-Wan with eyes bright in terror. "You're going to kill him, aren't you?" she breathed.

Obi-Wan contemplated Padmé painfully, then gingerly crossed over and sat beside her. "I don't want to. I truthfully don't know that I _can_ if it comes to that," he admitted. "But he has become a great threat. And I will do what I must." Words he would force himself to abide by. Padmé was the picture of horror and shook her head again, conflicted. Silent. Unwilling to betray her lover. Obi-Wan could not force her to tell him. But he had one final plea. "For Sabé's sake," he tried, tears filling his eyes as he remembered seeing Sabé standing silent and serene at Padmé's side, all those years ago when they were Queen and Handmaiden. "One of your oldest friends?" he prompted, ruined at the place reality had left them all. "Please, Padmé. I beg you. I will never forgive myself if she dies because of me like this." He didn't know if he could go on without her. And it wasn't just her. "If our child…" he choked off, unable to finish the sentence. He had barely just learned the news. He hadn't even coherently thought this to himself: he was to be a father. A thought too massive, precious, and wonderful to allow himself to dwell on in these abhorrent, dangerous times.

Padmé remained in deep, rapid thought for a few agonizing seconds more. A silent tear came down her cheek and she dashed it away, then turned to look at him bravely. Resolutely. And it was clear she hadn't given up on Anakin. "I know where he is," she whispered, causing wretched hope to soar in Obi-Wan's chest. "And I can take you there. But I will _not_ be left behind. If anyone can save him, it's me," she said, hesitating. "The mother of his children. His… his wife."

" _Wife_?" Obi-Wan echoed sorrowfully, suddenly understanding how deep this went. The pregnancy was far along enough that he'd sensed it, of course, already, and made his guesses about who the father was. Her pain, loss, and fear were all etched plainly across her features and Obi-Wan was taken by wretched compassion. "Oh Padmé…" he murmured, remembering the footage. "I don't know that anyone can save him now."

Padmé lifted her chin bravely. "I have to try," she said, reconciled to do exactly that. Vaguely sick, her voice lowered. "But first, I want to see this footage. I need to see for myself."

Obi-Wan was tentative. He did not want Padmé to go with him to wherever Anakin was. And he did not want her to see the footage, either. But neither was his choice to make. And so he reached into his pocket for the recording he had taken with him from the Temple.

"I warn you," he said heavily. "This will be very difficult to see."

* * *

Sabé jolted to consciousness with a start and immediately panicked. It was dark, hot, and the air was thin. Pressing in around her rag-doll contorted body was a small space, leaving her cramped—she tried to move, and found that she couldn't—pressed in on every side. All she could hear were her own frantic inhales and exhales. _Where am I? What's happening?!_

Anakin, the Temple, the younglings, the news about her pregnancy—it all came screaming back to memory and more alarm rose, resulting in faster, harder, more panicked breaths and squirming around. She felt around with frantic hands— _I'm not restrained_ —trying to discern what type of location she was in. Metal everywhere, unpleasantly warm. No latches, no knobs. She did find a groove that swept overhead. _Am I in a fighter cargo hold?_ She pushed, attempting to kick weakly with her half-numb feet, unpleasant cramping sensations causing her to groan in pain as one stiff knee twinged. Wherever she was, she'd been here awhile.

And then, faintly nearby, a soft, robotic whistle that sounded familiar. Perking up, silencing herself as much as possible, Sabé listened hard, straining to hear another sound. Again, a sad, low moaning whistle. _Yes, I think I_ am _in a ship cargo hold! Anakin's starship? So is that Artoo?_

Sabé began pounding against the metal over her head. "Artoo? Artoo! Let me out of here!" she shouted, panting like an animal at this point. "Artoo?!"

Nothing. No reply. No sounds. Had she imagined it? Was she going crazy? And then suddenly, the space above Sabé opened up as the hatch closing her into the minuscule storage area popped open. Air rushed in—hot and acrid—and Sabé coughed even as she awkwardly hauled herself out onto numb legs. Waiting on the landing platform adjacent, Artoo wobbled back and forth on his legs, surprised and pessimistic from the tone of his beeps.

"Thank you, thank you," Sabé whispered, briefly laying a hand onto his dome and looking around starkly in fear. _What kind of hellscape is this?_ A river of angry red-orange molten lava surged below the landing platform below—as far as the eye could see, black smoky sky and volcanic mountains pressed in, deadly orange rivulets cascading from the peaks down to the churning flow below. Fiery embers flew through the air like the lightest of snow. They seemed to have landed at some sort of factory or plant—hovering droids could be seen harvesting lava from the river below.

Anakin was nowhere to be seen. Sabé had been shoved like luggage into a storage pod in the back of his small, personal Jedi fighter. Hopping in a small circle on one leg as her sore body and half-asleep joints cursed her to move poorly, Sabé despaired at the surrounding landscape. Distant screams punctuated by the unmistakable crackle of a lightsaber caused Sabé to whirl with wide eyes—part of the structure this landing platform was attached to included a command hub down a ways from where she currently was. But in the small windows, even from the small distance, she could see flashes of light. Anakin was in there, laying waste to whatever helpless souls were locked in there with him. _I have to get out of here._ Sabé quickly attempted to access the fighter's cockpit. But it was locked. Cursing and hitting against the frame, Sabé scoured her brain for a plan to survive. Wiping her forehead with the back of her wrist, she found that she was profusely sweating. This planet was hostile and deadly. So was Anakin.

Unwilling to waste another second, Sabé shut the storage pod she'd climbed out of, hoping maybe Anakin wouldn't check it before he left, then told Artoo to stay put. Two lives depended on her now. Hers, and the new life she and Obi-Wan had unknowingly created together. Tears leaked out of her eyes unbidden as she stumblingly stole into the complex, looking for a way out—a plan of action— _anything_.

She still didn't even know if Obi-Wan was alive or dead.


	38. Vader's Wrath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ** Content Trigger Warning: Suicidal ideations briefly mentioned**

The silver Naboo star skiff jetted through the obscurity of hyperspace, carrying its three passengers to the Mustafar system: Padmé, Obi-Wan, and C3PO. The silence was weighty, and personal tensions were high between the Senator and the Jedi Master. Both had remained in their own dark thoughts and considerations for the majority of the journey, but now as they neared their destination, the communal anxiety and apprehension was heightening. Obi-Wan had meditated during the first leg of the flight, but found himself unable past a certain point. Too much was at stake. And nothing solid or dependable seemed to remain anymore. Even the Force had retreated away, limping and wounded. Or perhaps that was Obi-Wan.

Beside him in the pilot's seat, he heard Padmé turn slightly. Her voice was soft, sorrowful. "How far along is she?"

 _Sabé_. A pang welled up inside of Obi-Wan. Guilt. Fear. Grief. His voice came out hoarse. "I… don't know." He thought back over the previous four weeks… which were suddenly a simpler time. The clone wars seemed insignificant when contrasted to the crushing blow that had shattered the galaxy apart. And when Obi-Wan lingered over the fact that he hadn't noticed that the woman he loved was with child… he felt newly destroyed. "Not long," he whispered, feeling such a sense of absolute failure to protect and shelter the one he loved. The _ones_ he loved. Because even though he'd never thought of being a father, even though he'd never strung that up in his list of things he wished to accomplish in life… it was reality. And contemplating the new life that love had created, a new existence sprung from the well of all that existed between himself and Sabé… how could he _not_ love this yet nameless being?

"I'm so sorry this is happening," Padmé said, and she sounded like she could cry.

Finally looking at his companion, Obi-Wan tried to summon as much empathy as possible. It was hard. He felt stripped bare inside. "It's not your fault, Padmé."

She was not convinced. In fact, she was more knowing than he would have guessed. Her eyes slunk to his. "Are you sure about that?" A guilt-riddled question.

It hurt in some way to think she felt responsible. "Anakin is in control of his choices… you didn't make him do what he's done."

"No, but…" Padmé contemplated the cockpit glass with glazed, teary eyes. She had put on a travel outfit that showed her pregnancy clearly, and she had both hands protectively across the swell of her stomach. "I knew our relationship was a bad idea," she revealed tremulously, regret and conflict making her ragged. "I told him once that living a lie would only destroy us." Her head bowed in regret. "I should have listened to my own words." Obi-Wan could hear the weight in her voice, could sense how the relationship had worn on her. "Secrets, lies, always paranoid to be discovered, always afraid of having it all taken away… it's no way to live." Obi-Wan could only guess at what both she and Anakin had endured. He had a small idea of it, from his own experience, but he also understood Padmé and Anakin had done things differently. They'd married, they'd never told anyone the truth until it was too late. And now their secret was devastating every last ounce of remaining hope. Padmé steeled herself and set her face with determination, becoming stronger again. "When we land, let me get out first. Attempt to talk to him."

Obi-Wan felt nothing but dread and discomfort at the entire idea. "What will you say?" He asked, studying her closely, hesitant to ask what he did next. "Do you still think he can be saved? Even after what you saw?"

Padmé saw through him and faltered because of it. "You think it's too late."

He didn't want to feel that way. But the Anakin he knew… was certainly gone. The Dark Side had won. Anakin had given himself over. And while glimpses of Anakin would surely always remain… Vader owned the majority of landscape now. Anakin was locked away in a tower, a ghost in his own body. "You saw what he did, Padmé."

She struggled to keep composure. "Yes. I did." Her voice fell to a whisper. "I… I have to hold onto hope. As wrong as that may seem."

Obi-Wan needed to hold onto hope too. And it was frightening to do so. He pictured two of the people he loved most in the universe: Sabé. Anakin. Almost everyone else he'd ever known or cared about had been taken away now. The looming threat remained: hanging in the balance were his beloved former apprentice as well as the only woman he had ever loved or ever wanted to love… the mother of his unborn child. "I understand," he commiserated. "You love him." A heavy pause, a trembling breath in. "I love him too." A shaky exhale. _But I cannot let that cloud my vision. He has done things that can never be undone._

"Yes, I love him," Padmé returned sadly before she grew ill in appearance. "But… I'm afraid of him, Obi-Wan. Of what he's become. When he came to see me yesterday… it would have been right after everything he did at the Temple. I can't believe the man I loved could do that then look me in the eye. Unless he… unless he wasn't himself." Her voice weakened. "Or unless I never knew him at all." At that moment she gave a soft groan of pain and grimaced, clutching at her lower abdomen and shifting around uncomfortably in her seat briefly.

Obi-Wan felt another ripple of foreboding. "It's not too late to change your mind," he reminded her. "You don't have to go with me—it will be dangerous, Padmé." He'd already asked her once before not to come. She'd insisted. "Think of your children."

Padmé looked at him with hard, wretched, heartbroken determination. "I am." Her resolve faltered. "And their father. I have to try."

Obi-Wan felt her doubt that clashed with the stubborn, fading hope. He resonated with her sadness completely. "I know you do." On his hip, the weight of his lightsaber rested, filling Obi-Wan with dread. _Force help me._

They came out of hyperspace just then, and the angry red and black surface of Mustafar charged into view. Pressing into his senses, Obi-Wan sat forward in his seat a bit, trying to detect Sabé or any trace of her. Instead, he found a surge of the Dark Side waiting and he jolted back as if burned.

He knew one thing immediately: Terrible things were to happen here today.

* * *

It had been an early autumn day when Padmé Amidala Naberrie had wed Anakin Skywalker by that lake on Naboo.

" _Marry me_ ," he'd beseeched her as he lay in a healing bed just a day or two prior, his words intense, his plea heartfelt. His rapture with her was a living being, hovering between them, tantalizing Padmé with the raw energy and passion promised. "I'll _die_ without your love."

The romance of it all had swept her into a rushed affair that had never quite ended. Padmé and Anakin had made their choice and set themselves as victims to The Way Things Are, euphoric in the time they stole together, catching onto a tangle of passion and desire and separation that birthed an always-fiery reunion. Falling in love with the brash young Jedi had been a novelty in an existence otherwise plain—a breath of air in a stale, political existence that was meaningful and important, but left Padmé hollow at times. Anakin's unpredictable, unapologetic way of moving through the world had been exciting; his passion for life and for her had been a heady, inescapable addiction. And yet, there had been cracks in the foundation that Padmé had tried to avoid—diminish—and explain away. He was easily angered (but always profuse to apologize after). He was jealous and possessive, which at first had felt romantic, then later, problematic. But no one was perfect, and Padmé had married a man younger than her. She'd chalked it up to immaturity, and hoped her husband would someday leave childish things behind. However, one thing did always linger like a beast she'd locked far away to escape from: the lingering thought of what he'd done to the Sandpeople on Tatooine. _His mother had just died in his arms_ , she'd rationalize to herself. _I don't know how I would react in that situation. He regretted it. He deserves a second chance…_

Now, what happened with the Sandpeople stood clearly in her mind as a sign of things to come that she never should have written off or ignored. As the landing sequence finished, Padmé took in the desolate world of Mustafar. Volcanos as far as the eye could see, and the sky was dark red like blood. A river of lava flowed below. To her left, Anakin could be seen, a small figure on a walkway between some sort of control building at whatever outpost this was. Sabé was nowhere to be seen. Anakin began to jog that way, recognizing her ship. Padmé's heart squeezed in fear and love.

Obi-Wan's hand gently grasped her shoulder, a reassuring touch. Padmé's hammering pulse and sick stomach railed against her, telling her not to be foolish. Not to walk into danger like this. _What other choice do I have?_ With hurting, teary eyes, Padmé drew in a strong breath, bracing herself then standing, exchanging a brief and silent terse glance with Obi-Wan before she began her exit.

The Mustafar air burned, acrid and smoky. Low rumbles and explosions deep within the planet core shook the ground. Embers blew through the air like deadly confetti. Padmé made it about five feet from the landing ramp of her ship before Anakin jogged up the stairs to the platform, a worried but happy expression on his face. Padmé faltered where she stood, fear rising as Anakin grew closer. "Don't come any closer to me," she said, a little louder than she meant. He stopped, confused… and darkening a degree. "Please," she added, already wondering if her idea to talk to him was a mistake or not. As she contemplated the man she'd shared a bed, love, and dreams of a future with, emotion choked her and tears filled her eyes. "I've seen terrible things, Anakin. Terrible things."

Growing mistrustful, Anakin hung back. "What do you mean?"

Padmé took a small step forward, an act of good faith. "You're the man I love. You're strong. And kind. And brave. You fight for what's right—" she appealed desperately. "Don't you?"

Anakin remained hardened. "What is this?" he asked low and slow, his brow furrowing more and more. "You're here to _accuse_ me?"

Padmé shook her head hard—this was going downhill. Every tactic she'd thought to use, everything she had gone over mentally escaped her in favor of mild panic. "No, I'm here to beg you," she said quickly, breathlessly. "To do the right thing. To come back while you still can."

Anakin mercifully grew softer. "Come back where? I'm right here, my love. Everything is fine… I just ended the war." He chanced coming closer, touching the side of her arm. "For you. For _us_. You're safe now, _forever_."

Padmé held his gaze gauntly. The security footage she'd seen echoed across her mind's eye, refusing to be ignored. "And what if I need to be kept safe from you?"

He didn't like that, and his mouth flattened, hand came away from her as if bitten. "Don't be ridiculous—all I've ever done is protect you, Padmé."

Despite her fear, she was incensed. "Killing younglings? Slaughtering Jedi? And what have you done with Sabé? How is any of that _protecting_ me?"

He hadn't expected her to discover what he'd done, that much was clear from his expression. "I don't expect you to understand," he replied flatly after a long, intimidating pause.

"Well you need to explain yourself to me," Padmé said shakily. " _Now_."

Anakin was edgy. "Wouldn't you kill to save a life?" he asked harshly, the picture of a man caught between a rock and a hard place. There was something else too though—some darkness to his presence that only grew more pronounced. "Some must die so that others could live. That's the way of the world." He suddenly softened and brightened. "Padmé, my love—" he seemed insane to her in that moment, deranged almost, grinning as behind him, the hellscape of Mustafar blazed. "Don't you see, we don't have to run away anymore, we don't have to fight to be free, to love in the open! I have brought peace to the Republic! And I am more powerful than the Chancellor—I can overthrow him, and together you and I can rule the galaxy! Make things the way we want them to be for us, our family! Our _children_. And I can save your life now—keep you protected." Padmé only grew more and more shocked and resistant to what he was saying. Anakin became fractionally more rough when she didn't fling her arms around him and express her gratitude. "Some sacrifices were needed, don't behave as though you don't understand the way of the world—don't you turn against me too." Threatening words that withered her. "The Jedi wanted to take over, they had to be stopped! You must believe me."

Padmé was hollow, shaking her head again. There was only one thing she knew for sure in that moment: "…I don't," she breathed tearfully. How had this happened? Why was he within arm's length distance, but totally impossible to reach? "Anakin… you're breaking my heart—I thought I _knew_ you!" she begged, "You've been deceived… you actually believe what you're saying to me, don't you?" A warm tear spilled out onto her cheek, testament to her agony. "Obi-Wan told me you'd turned to the Dark Side and I wouldn't believe him, even after what I saw. But now… now I think I do." More tears came. She knew how helpless she was. She could see how far gone Anakin was. And still, she tried. "Please, for the sake of us, our children—don't go down this path!"

" _Obi-Wan_ ," Anakin muttered bitterly, hatred in his voice. "Jedi are not to be trusted—he's been filling your head with lies, Padmé!"

"What _lies_?" she demanded, insulted. "I've seen the footage!" Padmé set him with a dark, knowing look. "And I know what you did to those Sandpeople, too."

Anakin's anger and disbelief flared. "You dare bring that up to me!"

A mistake. Padmé rerouted, glancing around behind her husband in frantic urgency. "Anakin, where is Sabé?" she demanded, fearing the worst. "What have you done with my friend?" When Anakin was silent and dangerous, Padmé felt the already-thin air grow thinner. "Would you kill a pregnant woman?" she whispered in horror. " _Have_ you?"

His answer broke her. "Compassion is a flaw, Padmé, it will hold you back. It makes you _weak._ " Anakin walked off a few steps, putting his back to her and then turning just his head to show his profile as he spit more accusations. "Your 'friend' is a _traitor._ "

Padmé's heart cracked in half, gutting her and causing a sob to well up in her throat. "The only traitor I see here is you," she managed, seized by dismay and anger and terror alike. And suddenly, she was yelling. "You were supposed to be selfless! Kind! Compassionate! What happened to the man I fell in love with three years ago?! We _loved_ each other, Anakin!"

He was cold. Still with his back to her. "Yes, I think you're right about that."

Padmé felt herself go woozy. Weak. "It's too late…" she said aloud, realizing it for the final time. Anakin was gone. In his place, some monster who wore his face and spoke with his voice. "It's too late."

Anakin whirled then, a terrible expression on his face, a certain promise of wrath to his posture. Padmé shrank back, struck by fear. "I did not tear the galaxy apart just to lose you and have your love taken away from me; I will not accept it," he seethed through gritted teeth, then took a stride forward. "Padmé—you love me. Say it. _Say it!_ "

And she could not—petrified, she didn't know who this person was before her. Anakin stormed toward her—then a blaster shot rang out and he stumbled, clumsily sidestepping the shot nearly too late. Both Padmé and Anakin looked in shock at where the shot had come from—crouched and rising now to stand to her full height, Sabé had snuck close at some point during the exchange, using the stairs leading up from the plant entrance to the platform to conceal herself. A terrible, fearful expression was on her face as she boldly remained where she was. Padmé wanted to scream _no—run, hide!_ —even as with incredulous anger, Anakin looked at the graze her shot had left in his shoulder. Snatched up by rage, he threw a hand out, choking Sabé from across the distance, raising her up into the air as she flailed, her weapon clattering to the platform uselessly.

"Sabé!" Padmé screamed. Overtaken by rage and horror, she reached for the mini blaster she'd concealed just below her belly and with a shaking hand, she shot Anakin once in the back of his shoulder, and Sabé fell down, freed—even as Anakin turned with rage, disbelief, and betrayal in his eyes. Padmé shrank back.

No longer able to stay hidden, Obi-Wan swept down the ramp, stopping just short of Padmé with his hand hovering beside his weapon, and Anakin's fury tripled. Hatred in his eyes, he thrust a hand toward his wife. " _Liar_!"

Airlessly choking as her weapon went flying, Padmé clutched in panic at her own throat, clawing against the invisible fingers locked against her windpipe even as she was yanked forward like a ragdoll into Anakin's waiting, gloved hand. Murderous wrath made him tremble so hard he might have broken her in half. Padmé's limbs began to struggle and her consciousness fade under the brutal grip on her neck. She stared with complete shock into the furious eyes of the man she thought loved her. Eyes that had become a non-human yellow. _Please, Anakin—no—_ her last coherent thoughts before the world faded away.

"Let her go, Anakin!" Obi-Wan bellowed even as Anakin seemed to register what he was doing. Obi-Wan came closer by three steps. " _Let_ _—her—_ _go_!"

Anakin did, and Padmé crumpled to the ground, motionless where Anakin regarded her with a momentarily stunned expression. Obi-Wan restrained himself to remain exactly where he was, even though the urge to act rashly made him almost snap. Casting his gaze beyond Anakin to where Sabé was halfway pushed up off the ground, any momentary relief was overtaken by the fear of what was unfolding here. Anakin's rage was hotter than the surrounding Mustafar landscape, scalding Obi-Wan in a soul-deep way. Briefly, Sabé's gaze locked with his, and he saw the hope in her eyes at seeing him. Felt the love emanating from her, the relief she felt to see him too. To be so close yet so impossible far from her was torture.

"You've turned my wife against me!" Anakin screamed, beginning to pace like an animal in the middle of the platform.

Obi-Wan did not hide his contempt as he turned his attention to the one who had destroyed everything. "You have done that yourself!"

"You conspired together to destroy me," Anakin raged, red-faced. " _Backstabbers_!"

"Anakin, we both _love_ you!" Obi-Wan shouted back despairingly.

"Love!" Anakin spat. "This doesn't feel like love!" He stopped pacing to level his former master with a resentful, scornful glare that became a mask of pain. "You're just like the rest of them, _hypocrites_! It was a new form of slavery that I entered into when Qui-Gon took me from that vile planet I won't even name—the Jedi Order imprisoned me and forced me to deny parts of myself that should have never been denied… I have _never_ been free in my entire life, _ever_!" He suddenly became eerily calm. "Well, I am now."

Obi-Wan was beside himself at the senseless accusations. "You could have walked away at any time of your choosing, Anakin, no one made you become a Jedi, you _wanted_ it!"

"I was a child!" Anakin shouted, "A _child._ I didn't know what I _wanted!_ " His features darkened, and he looked nothing like the Anakin Obi-Wan knew. "And I _have_ walked away now."

"To what end!? Down what path?!" Obi-Wan pled, desperately trying to help him see, to throw Anakin a lifeline to catch onto and pull back into the Light with. "Palpatine doesn't want to give you freedom, don't you see? He's _using_ you, Anakin!"

Anakin smiled coldly. "Did you come all this way here to lecture me? I know you're here to try and kill me, old man." He was almost taunting Obi-Wan now. "Too bad it's not the Jedi way to make the first strike. You're at my mercy."

Tears welled in Obi-Wan's eyes, his grief so strong that he could barely take a breath. "Anakin, I beg you—don't do this. You will only destroy yourself in the end and everything you ever loved."

Haughty, Anakin seemed inconvenienced. "A small-minded perspective," he declared, and the smile that grew on his face was obscene. "Join me, Obi-Wan," he entreated in a low voice, his eyes bright and his voice full of dreams rooted in lies and evil things. "It's not too late. We can create a new Jedi Order, casting aside the dogmatic, restrictive, soulless laws that oppressed us before. You'd be free to love, free to be a father! Free to live the life you _want_. Stand at my side, old Master—as we create the new galaxy together."

The reference to fatherhood left Obi-Wan trembling. Anakin had choked Sabé to unconsciousness and confirmed to Padmé a moment ago that he would kill Sabé and her unborn child. And now he was offering freedom? Now he wanted Obi-Wan to join his cause? "I will never do that, Anakin," he said in a stricken voice, aghast at the way Anakin had been warped. "You have allowed this Dark Lord to twist your mind until now… now you've become the very thing you swore to destroy."

"That's because I've been reborn," Anakin insisted, appearing happy about it. "I see through the lies of the Jedi. And now that they are destroyed, I have brought peace, justice, freedom, and security to my new Empire! All because of the power of the Dark Side."

"Anakin, look around yourself!" Obi-Wan shouted in dismay. "You've forsaken everything good in favor of gaining power! You have taken the lives of the innocent and harmed the woman you're supposed to love! Please, _stop_!"

Anakin soured greatly. "Do not speak to me of love, Master," he warned. "You couldn't understand what it is to truly love, not like I do!" He grew unreasonable, his voice raising to another full-volume scream. "You will not take her from me!" He threw his cloak off.

"I have never wanted to!" Obi-Wan defended. "Your anger and your lust for power have already done that!" He flung his cloak off too, and the two began to slowly circle each other.

"You lie," Anakin accused hotly. "You've tried to sabotage the one thing beautiful and good in my life!"

Obi-Wan kept the circling going until he was between Anakin and Sabé, and then he stopped. Sabé remained quiet, still, and watchful, on her hands and knees. "The only one who has sabotaged anything here is you," Obi-Wan said. "I am not your enemy."

Anakin was hateful. "If you're not with me, then what are you?!" he asked, an expression of absolutely devastating rage on his face. He looked at Sabé, then back at Obi-Wan, a wicked plan visibly coming to his mind. The Force surged in warning. "As you have taken from me, I will take from you!" Anakin screamed and flung a hand out. With a shocked expression, Sabé went sliding off the platform with a cry, down toward the lava below—a hand reaching out to try and grasp onto the ledge, and failing. She was gone.

" _No_!" Obi-Wan cried, moving to jump after her—but Anakin flipped over him, igniting his saber, blocking his way and attacking Obi-Wan's moment of weakness, not allowing him to save the one he loved. Obi-Wan was not as slow as Anakin had hoped: Blue lightsaber clashed to blue lightsaber—and for a brief moment, the two men struggled, their eyes locked across the space of their weapons. Brothers in arms, Master and Apprentice, friend and friend. It was all gone, turned to dust. Obi-Wan boiled in pain, rage, anger—just as Anakin had known he would. Anakin _wanted_ him to turn to the Dark Side. And Obi-Wan feared it might happen. _Sabé_. A cry of helpless animalistic anguish tore out of Obi-Wan's throat, and he drew back and unleashed a furious attack.

* * *

A single hand clung onto a small horizontal line of pipe below the landing platform—and Sabé stared in momentary stunned terror down at the river of lava that was about ten feet below her swinging, booted feet. She'd fallen far—if she hadn't caught hold of the pipe, she would already be dead and melted apart already. As it was, the heat burned her alive, making her feel like she'd caught on fire. _Don't look down. Look up. Move!_ Sabé tore her eyes away from certain death, and looked upward to hope. With a shaky yell of focus, she launched herself up enough with a pull to catch hold of the pipe with both hands. The pipe was scalding hot, even with the specialty heat ray shields faintly glowing around it. Teeth gritted in pain and determination alike she pulled up, letting her chest come into contact with the pipe and support her better as she panted heavily. The fall had scared her so bad she could barely see, and looking up now, a maze of pipes and rigging presented quite the challenge to scale upward to safety. Faintly, the sounds of lightsabers trading blows could be heard. Despairing, Sabé struggled. Her hands burned, her mind was confounded, and flying embers bit at her exposed skin. Still, she held on. _I'm not dying here today,_ she told herself, then thought of the spark of life she carried with her _. And neither are you._ With a shout, she hauled herself up further, beginning the slow ascent.

* * *

A boot came crashing straight to the center of Obi-Wan's chest, the painful impact sending him back—but he launched into a feet over head flip and landed solidly, avoiding a stumble as he rapidly backed up across the walkway he found himself on. Below, lava raged. Quickly moving backwards and balancing as a brief respite from exchanging blows commenced, Anakin charged forward at him, matching his stride for a moment. "Don't make me destroy you, old man," he growled. "You're no match for the Dark Side."

Clinging onto the Force for strength, Obi-Wan breathlessly evaluated his opponent. "I've heard that before, Anakin, but I never thought I'd hear it from you," he managed in a voice gone uneven. Anakin leapt forward again, swinging his saber hard for a killing blow. Obi-Wan blocked with a grunt and the fight was on again—Anakin's offensive meeting Obi-Wan's defensive as their sabers, once allies, now made themselves enemies. Pain and despair carved everything out of Obi-Wan, leaving him hollow and empty of everything except this terrible moment.

Anakin forced Obi-Wan backwards into the complex and down a narrow hall, his blows relentless and fast, leaving Obi-Wan to scramble and keep up only just. "Give in, Obi-Wan!" Anakin shouted even as sparks rained down from their sabers scraping into the metal elements in the low ceiling. "I know you want to! You could be all-powerful!"

 _No_. "I don't want that!" Obi-Wan bellowed as they broke into a tech room. The battle intensified, and the Dark Side beckoned. Obi-Wan resisted, even as pain and misery tossed him like a cat might bat around a mouse. Sabé's face as she'd fallen was forever seared into his mind, a brand he would carry forever more. He couldn't dwell on it, or he would either lay down and die or reach out to the Dark Side. Neither was allowed. He refused.

Anakin swung his saber and met Obi-Wan's, sending both beams of light crashing into a control panel setup. Vaguely, Obi-Wan registered warning sounds going off. Their sabers dug into the panel, trapped in a struggle—and thinking quickly, Obi-Wan shut his off. Put off balance by the sudden jolt, Anakin stumbled and Obi-Wan gave an enormous Force push. Anakin's saber went flying, deactivated. Fallen onto his back to the ground, Anakin was vulnerable. Killable.

Standing over him with his saber newly re-ignited, Obi-Wan hesitated as Anakin stared up at him with heaving breath. _Do it,_ the Dark Side said. And Obi-Wan found that the temptation was not there at all. _No. I can't_. Despite it all. The call of the Dark Side faded. His love for Anakin was too much.

Of all things, Anakin smirked. "You hesitate," he observed sneeringly. "The flaw of compassion. Don't you want to kill the one who sent your lover to her grave, Obi-Wan?"

The words hurt him, stabbing through his chest to sear and burn into a heart that was completely broken. Obi-Wan took a step backwards. "I want my friend Anakin back," he said in a soft, strained voice, saber going to his side.

Anakin jumped to his feet, his face an unrecognizable mask of malice. "Too bad." He yanked Obi-Wan to himself using the Force, crushing his hand to Obi-Wan's throat and bending him backwards as he grabbed Obi-Wan's wrist and attempted to kill his old Master with his own weapon.

At the last moment, Obi-Wan kicked hard, sending Anakin spinning away for the briefest of seconds. Even as he found his footing, Obi-Wan whirled to Anakin's approach again, his lightsaber back in his hand and the promise of destruction clear on the younger man's face. _Anakin is not coming back_. A final and terrible conclusion to arrive upon, but one he knew he couldn't allow himself to deny anymore. Drawing deeply on the Force even though it was so faint and hard to reach, Obi-Wan engaged again as Anakin viciously subjected him to another blazing attack.

* * *

Alarms were sounding, giving away how dire the situation was continuing to become with every passing second. Sabé threw her forearm up onto the landing platform surface, giving one last burst of enormous effort to haul herself up to safety. With the final valiant struggle, she got both hands topside and with all her remaining strength, pushed and pulled herself up back onto solid ground, dragging herself up and then pulling her feet away from the ledge to huddle in a breathless pile of quivering muscles. She barely gave herself even a second to recover, instead craning her neck around. Obi-Wan and Anakin were no longer in the immediate area—she could still hear their conflict somewhere nearby—then briefly spotted the flash of blue lightsabers down on a further pathway that overlooked the gigantic multispired collection structures. Her heart leapt in the worst of ways. _Obi-Wan_. Sabé then looked sidelong of herself. _Padmé._ Still motionless on the ground. Pushing herself up urgently, Sabé ran over on trembling legs and fell at Padmé's side to check her pulse. It was there, but not as strongly as it should have been.

Torn—knowing Padmé probably needed medical attention—Sabé looked back at where Obi-Wan and Anakin were. She couldn't see their sabers anymore. _I won't leave him. I can't!_

"Lady Sabé!" came a prim, accented voice. "What's happened?" At the ship's ramp not far away, C3PO stood, his golden casing catching the gleam of lava. Beside Threepio, Artoo had appeared, and gave a mournful whistle. Sabé stood up again and crouched to hook her arms underneath Padmé's armpits then drag as gently but quickly as possible toward the ship.

"Threepio, make sure that ship is ready to leave when I tell you!" she shouted over her shoulder, digging deep for strength.

* * *

Obi-Wan and Anakin battled on top of the multispired collection panels, jumping from one to the other as they traded blow after blow—Anakin reeked of the Dark Side, his growing lust to kill leaving a foul taste and bitter effect on Obi-Wan, who only managed to last and continue on thanks to the Force's steady, quiet flow. At the end of the collection cluster they were balanced on, a giant spray of lava suddenly burst forth and splattered across the attachments holding up the collectors. The frame began to melt and lava began to rain over them—both men ran for cover under the collection cluster, ducking behind elements briefly. The entire collection tower began to fall away from the plant structure, groaning toward the lava river below. Anakin and Obi-Wan ran up the length, avoiding being plunged into the inferno below. Still, Anakin's blows kept coming, even as the tower slowly began to sink under the lava. Snapping and metallic groans could be heard as time ran out. Obi-Wan looked around, then saw a small, floating platform nearby—the telltale blue glow revealing that it was a safer place than the sinking collection tower. With a huge concentration of Force energy, Obi-Wan leapt off the tower and landed squarely onto the hovering platform, turning immediately to see Anakin take a flying leap onto an adjacent hovering worker droid. Immediately, Anakin bore down toward Obi-Wan and unleashing another relentless assault.

Blow for blow, they were matched in skill and practice—and knowing each other's fighting style meant that they could gain little ground on each other. After a particularly vicious round of brutal blows, parries, and blows, the two were briefly caught in a stalemate. Across the small amount of lava dividing them, Obi-Wan regarded his former apprentice with hopelessness. Sweat drenched him, no way out seemed clear. _I'm going to die here today._ And yet the thought did not leave him feeling any sort of way except resigned. It seemed fitting that his bones should sink into the same lava that had taken Sabé. In a dark fashion, they would remain together in that way. Anakin had destroyed the entire world—taken _everything_ from Obi-Wan—and yet all he could do was bask in the misery of loving this young man still. "I have failed you, Anakin… I have failed you," he said in stark sorrow, feeling that the end was surely near. "I was never able to teach you to _think_."

No remorse was visibly. Only more spite. "If you had, I would have _known_ the Jedi were plotting to take over!" Anakin yelled. He looked like a twisted version of who he'd used to be: face lit red. Hair plastered across his face ghoulishly. Eyes hollow and yellowish. "Palpatine only wants to bring peace!"

Obi-Wan was newly aghast at Anakin's inability to see the truth. "Anakin, Chancellor Palpatine is evil!"

"From my point of view, the Jedi are evil!" Anakin argued back vehemently. "They take children, they force their views, they deny the basic human right to love and be loved!"

"Anakin, the way to invoke change is not the way you've chosen!" Obi-Wan shouted, almost in tears again.

Anakin was baleful. "I tire of your lectures," he growled. "This is the only way!"

"Well then you are lost!"

Briefly, Anakin glared against Obi-Wan's pleading, broken look. Then a final declaration came from Anakin, spoken in a final tone. "This is the end for you, my Master." Anakin jumped off the droid and flipped, landing onto the platform with Obi-Wan, making the structure falter and shake as it continued upward along the river—and the fighting continued again until the black, sandy edge of the lava river drifted close enough. Obi-Wan leapt off, landing high up on the slight incline.

Anakin glowered, his expression drunk on evil and fury. Before he even made a single move, Obi-Wan knew what his prideful thoughts were telling him to do.

"Don't try it," Obi-Wan urged intensely, but saw his words fell on deaf ears.

"You underestimate my power!" Anakin seethed, and jumped… attempting to show his power and vault over Obi-Wan to gain the high ground. But in his ego, pride, and shortcoming, he miscalculated. He jumped too low. And with a single stroke, Obi-Wan cut his young apprentice at the knees and left arm, sending Anakin tumbling down the embankment and back toward the edge of the lava.

And just like that, it was all over. Obi-Wan stood back with a heaving chest, pain ricocheting through every last cell as he looked down at Anakin. Groaning in pain and anger alike, Anakin struggled, his remaining mechanical hand attempting to pull himself back up in the loose black sand and failing. Hatred rested in his yellowing eyes.

Seeing through blurred, tearful vision, Obi-Wan could only remember the young boy he'd met on Tatooine. Their years together echoed in his mind, all the battles and missions and journeys. All of it leading here. _The Chosen One_. All of it an enormous lie or a huge mistake. Obi-Wan was abandoned completely, forsaken, his faith destroyed. "You were the Chosen One!" he cried out, face twisted in bitter grief. "It was said that you would, destroy the Sith, not _join_ them! It was you who would bring balance to the Force, not leave it in _Darkness_!"

Obi-Wan picked up Anakin's lightsaber, and began to walk backwards slowly. He wanted to run down the slope and haul Anakin to safety. He wanted to save him. But Anakin was beyond reach. And then, a scream that would haunt Obi-Wan for the rest of his life followed: " _I hate you_!"

How was it possible for a shattered heart to break further? "You were my brother, Anakin!" Obi-Wan said through a sob. "I loved you!"

Anakin's clothing caught fire at his the place where his knees had been, and the flames greedily spread, engulfing Anakin as a whole, causing him to scream in absolute agony.

Obi-Wan looked away, in agony all of his own. _Save him. Save him!_ An instinct he had to ignore. Obi-Wan tore himself away, one leaden foot falling in front of the other as he retreated as a self-assessed coward. Anakin's screams of absolute torment followed him, and Obi-Wan's gaze went to the river below him as he picked a heavy, defeated path up the ridge. It would be easy to fling himself into it and die, too. He stopped walking and gazed into the redhot magma flow. In either hand, his lightsaber and Anakin's. He thought of Sabé. He bowed his head and tears came, and the urge to commit himself to the scalding depths was so powerful he almost couldn't resist.

And then above, the engine of Padmé's star skiff could be heard. Looking up in confusion—who was piloting? Had Padmé revived?—Obi-Wan saw the landing ramp was lowered for him. He hesitated, part of himself unwilling to go on. But the Light whispered to him. _Go_. With a final harrowed glance at Anakin, who screamed and burned—Obi-Wan swallowed his tears and jumped, landing lightly and then stumbling on shaky legs into the ship as the platform retracted and then hissed shut behind him. Silence commenced. Obi-Wan made it two steps before his legs gave out and he fell to his knees, catching himself on his hands as he sobbed. The two lightsabers went rolling, and he felt the ship ascend up quickly then launch into hyperspace.

 _Sabé. Anakin_. He wept, choking on his grief for all that was lost. He was doomed to live in a galaxy where his personal failings had resulted in the galaxy being destroyed. He was doomed to carry the knowledge that his beloved Sabé had died because of him. Their child, too. He wept for the lives lost, and existences cut short. _How will I ever survive this?_ Alone. So alone.

And then he heard the cockpit door hiss open. Wretched, he slowly looked up, expecting to see Padmé. He blinked, for a moment, thinking he was seeing things. But it wasn't Padmé. His screwed up features went soft and blank to see the person standing there. _How?_ For as deep, far, and wide his grief had been, a sudden surge of shocking relief, mad joy, and absolute confusion caused him to break all over again as Sabé—sooty, outfit burned in places, hair askew—rushed to him, falling to her knees and crashing into him with tight arms.

They clung to each other hard, both crying their relief, both shaking hard, faces buried in each other's shoulders and necks. "Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan," Sabé whispered tearfully then pulled back and took his face in both hands briefly before checking him over quickly and franticly. "Are you hurt, are you all right?"

Obi-Wan was stricken and barren. "I thought you were dead, I thought he'd killed you," he whispered in a scream-weakened voice.

She shook her head, eyes full of tears. "I'm still here," she said, voice choking on a soft tearful sound.

Obi-Wan thanked the Force profusely, gripping hold of the back of Sabé's neck briefly then tangling into her hair, his touch urgent, his hands needing to confirm she was there. His other hand gently skimmed fingertips across her abdomen as his eyes dropped down and his senses reached out. Sabé watched him with bated breath. "You're _both_ still here," he whispered, feeling the tiny prick of life inside of her, a spark so small that he'd missed it before. When he reached out to the little lifeform, he felt a curious little nudge back—and overcome, he found himself smiling somehow through his pain and tears. His daughter or son. For the briefest moment, Sabé and Obi-Wan's eyes met and their mutual relief, amazement, and shock at the entire situation caused them to grin helplessly. Despite all odds, all three of them had made it. And then Obi-Wan faltered. Made it where? What sort of galaxy was this for a child? What kind of man was Obi-Wan to have left his best friend burning to death? Quickly despairing again as the weight of reality descended on him all over again, Obi-Wan lost his brightness. "Oh Sabé," he managed in a ruined voice. "Everyone and everything is gone."

Sabé became tearful too, in step with him—he could feel her emotions closely, as if they were his own. "Not us," she said, touching his face even as new tears fell. " _Not yet_." And they clung to each other anew, Obi-Wan weeping brokenly into the fabric of her scorched flight suit for all the things that had been lost. All the things he didn't know if a man, Jedi or not, could heal from.


	39. Ashes of the Crown

Located in the Outer Rim Territories, the Polis Massa asteroid field was far from any major hyperspace lanes and sparsely populated: the perfect place for refugees to lay low and remain undiscovered. This was precisely why Master Yoda and Bail Organa had fled there after the Jedi Master's failed standoff against the new Emperor. Huddled in the obscurity of a remote outpost, the two hadn't been made to wait long before Obi-Wan made contact. But the message was unexpected: the good was that Sabé was safe. The bad was that Padmé was in medical emergency… about to give birth. Bail had been shocked at the news, but had taken it in stride. He'd never even known she was pregnant—who could the father have been? Secrecy surrounded the entire ordeal.

When they arrived, Padmé's condition was immediately apparent: dire. She was bleeding heavily from between her legs and unconscious. The small group rushed to the outpost's medical center. Operated by droids and a very small crew of the local Kallidahin species, it was not the most robust facility. But it would have to do. Even as Padmé was hurriedly put into an operating theatre and sheathed in a white medical gown, the small group of survivors gathered anxiously just outside to watch through the glass viewing wall: Yoda, Bail, Sabé, Obi-Wan, and the droids R2-D2 and C3PO.

Sabé paced anxiously as a Kallidahin doctor and team of medical droids hovered over Padmé. Bail found his eyes going to the cagey agent. She and Obi-Wan were both in similar conditions: sooty, disheveled, burnt in places. Clearly, they had been through some great and terrible ordeal before arriving here. And while Sabé had always been a consummate professional, giving away little as to her personal feelings, this day was different. Her emotions were wild and apparent. Her distress unrestrained. Similarly, Obi-Wan was not exactly the composed and mostly inscrutable man Bail had encountered before—standing with crossed arms and a hand over his mouth a few paces off from where Yoda and Bail were, the Jedi Master was haggard, his expression desolate—haunted almost. Seeing such respectable and normally steadfast figures broken down plunged more unease into the deepest part of Bail's stomach. He didn't want to concede that the galaxy had just been plunged into hopelessness, but it certainly did feel that way.

Sabé finally stopped pacing, coming to a stop right at Obi-Wan's side. That's when the most curious thing happened: the two of them exchanged a brief, anxious glance. Then Obi-Wan put his arm around Sabé and let his hand hold onto her shoulder gently, comfortingly. With familiarity, she leaned into him closely. With faintly risen eyebrows, Bail's only thought was _oh._ Suddenly, the Jedi Master's distress when he'd been recovered from Utapau and asked after Sabé's whereabouts made much more sense.

That was the moment when one of the medical droids hovered out of the theater. Everyone pressed in immediately to hear Padmé's medical assessment. "Unfortunately, it looks as though we are dealing with placental abruption," the droid said in a pleasant programmed voice. "Has the mother endured any sort of physical trauma recently?"

Obi-Wan and Sabé looked at each other with rattled eyes before Sabé was the one who answered. "Yes."

"As a complication of the abruption, she seems to be experiencing disseminated intravascular coagulation," the droid said, and no one there knew what it meant by the brief confused looks exchanged. Then, the droid made everything terribly clear: "Regretfully, I doubt she will live."

A shock of gut-punched silence hit.

"She's _dying_?" Obi-Wan breathed in disbelief and dismay.

Sabé was not so passive. She sounded terrified. "No, you have to be able to do something!"

"The best chance we have is saving the babies," the droid replied in the same too-pleasant tone. "She's lost too much blood, and we're having problems with her breathing. We need to operate quickly. Sadly, I think you'll need to prepare to say your goodbyes."

A stunning diagnosis given with no empathy or tact whatsoever. With that, the droid about-faced and returned into the theater, leaving a shellshocked, despairing group behind to process. Sabé appeared to lose what little hope had remained. "No," she managed weakly, shaking her head with glazed eyes. "No, this is too much." Her expression crumpled and even though she tried not to, the strength of grief twisted her face up, making her look younger… afraid. Lost. "Not Padmé too," she begged no one in a voice gone hoarse with tearfulness. She put a hand into the doorframe and sagged there, eyes on her friend. Beside her, Obi-Wan bowed his head and shut his eyes, defeated.

"Did… did the droid say babies?" Bail quietly asked Yoda, thinking surely he had misheard.

"Twins," Yoda confirmed solemnly.

It was more and more confounding by the moment. Bail hesitated, then still incredibly quiet, ventured to ask another question. "Master Yoda, who was the father of these children?"

Yoda met his gaze reluctantly. Great heaviness and sorrow rested in the old Master's eyes. "Their father, Anakin Skywalker was."

When he heard that, the air became thinner somehow. Bail regarded Padmé's motionless form with rising understanding as the pieces began to fit together in his mind. He, too, felt the prick of tears in his eyes as the tragedy of it all washed over him like waves in an ocean built entirely from the injustice of grief. "My stars," he breathed. A legacy of pain was being born here today.

* * *

Padmé woke suddenly and gasped inward hard then coughed, her expression wild and scared, eyes searching the space above herself in an attempt to grasp her situation.

Sabé, already at her bedside, leaned in quickly to take her hand, trying to catch her former queen's eyes and calm her. "Padmé, you're safe now," she called softly, stilling Padmé's slight head thrashes with a hand against her smooth cheek. Padmé's eyes caught Sabé's and her hand grasped back, tears filling her eyes as she no doubt remembered it all. Anakin—Mustafar. Her breathing sounded wheezy and faint, as if it were rattling inside of her somehow. It broke Sabé's heart, causing another bout of near-tears.

"W-where's Anakin?" Padmé asked, and her voice was rasping and hoarse, damaged by Anakin's work. "What happened?" That was when her eyes alighted onto Obi-Wan, who stood at the end of the bed hesitantly. And his presence told Padmé enough. She gave a heartrending sob.

Obi-Wan again neared tears. "I'm so sorry, Padmé," he said heavily, his guilt visible in his slumped shoulders, his broken eyes.

Padmé stared at the ceiling above herself oddly, struggling to breathe, wincing in pain as the droids continued to operate on her. "There's… still good in him… Obi-Wan," she said weakly, having to gulp in breaths almost every word. "I… know there is—"

"Save your strength, Padmé, _breathe,_ " Sabé urged, leaning close to her friend and not letting go of her hand. Talk of Anakin could only lead to terrible places and insurmountable pain.

Terrified, Padmé turned her head toward Sabé's face, a few inches from hers. "I can't do this," she said, fear tripling as the pain grew. The droids were inducing her, and the contractions would soon begin.

Sabé gripped harder, her promise that she would not move from Padmé's side. "You _can_ , I'm not leaving," she promised, but she didn't feel strong, and knowing that Padmé was likely to die made her throat close. The women locked eyes briefly and love—devotion—loyalty all gathered in Sabé's chest. Four years younger than her, somehow Padmé was still forever a leader and older sister figure to Sabé. Her gentle generosity of spirit throughout the years, her attentiveness and consideration, her trust and companionship during all the chapters of their lives was never more present in Sabé's mind. Certain relationships were treasures, always revealing more and more bounty as time went on. And such it was with Padmé… who suddenly gave a tortured shout that trailed into a scream, ragged and hoarse on vocal cords which had had been damaged. Her body seized, her hand gripped crushingly. Sabé held on, stroking sweat from Padmé's brow, the only thing she could do—and Padmé's anguish increasingly felt like her own. Obi-Wan came to the other side of Padmé, offering his hand, which she took and gripped just as hard. Across Padmé, he and Sabé exchanged a pained, fated look, knowing what was to come. Still, wretched hope remained that the diagnosis was wrong.

It continued on like that for what felt like a terrible eternity, with Obi-Wan and Sabé holding her hands, encouraging her, coaching her the best they could through the terrific pain of contractions which came fast, hard, and frequent. Finally, a blessing: "Here comes the first one," said a droid.

A wretched sob tore from Padmé, a sound that revealed utter defeat as she struggled to deliver. "Don't give up, Padmé," Obi-Wan urged softly.

"We're right here," Sabé added in, nearly in tears herself to see Padmé so agonized. If she could have done this for her queen, she would have in a heartbeat.

And suddenly, after an enormous bellowing scream and grunt from Padmé, one of the droids was holding a pink, crying, wriggling newborn. "It's a boy," they announced, swaddling the child in a soft receiving blanket and bringing the child up near to Obi-Wan so that Padmé could see.

Still in the depths of labor, drawing breaths with every ounce of strength she had, Padmé could only offer up a faint smile. She struggled to touch the baby on his forehead. Momentarily awestruck, Sabé found herself smiling too, amazed at this little human who was suddenly here with them. " _Luke_ ," Padmé breathed, naming her son. And immediately, Sabé loved him. Padmé then went prone again and seized, crying out as tears streaked down her face. She gave a tremendous shout as Sabé kept encouraging her. The cries intensified into animalistic shrieks of pain, then abated as she went slack. Another crying squall joined Luke's settling cries. "...and a girl," announced the droid, swathing the newborn into another blanket. Sabé followed the baby girl with her eyes, another huge swell of amazed emotion ringing through her.

"Leia," Padmé said, tired and weary love resting in her features even as sadness did too. Bail came in to hold the baby girl as Sabé stayed closely at Padmé's side. Obi-Wan was handed Luke by one of the droids. "They're… healthy?" Padmé asked, a certain delirious effect to her slightly slurred voice. Bail nodded, smiling at Leia gently.

Obi-Wan cast his gaze down into little Luke's face, looking at him for the first time. The boy had stopped crying once he'd been taken into the Master's warm arms, and a soft smile of incredulous love and wonder took over Obi-Wan's face just for a moment as he looked on the life so newly come. Seeing him with the baby made Sabé's breathing hitch and heart squeeze, and maybe he knew she'd be watching, because his eyes, full of a sudden brightness of hope and love, came to meet hers.

Padmé's breathing was worsening, and she clutched at Sabé weakly. Tearing her gaze away from Obi-Wan, Sabé grasped back in steadfast tenderness, her emotions taking a turn toward desolation again… these babies needed their mother, but Padmé's eyes were wild, as if she knew her chance to speak would be lost soon. "Sabé…" she croaked out, "promise me, please—make sure my children are… cared for, I'm… begging… you…" a mother's desperate plea. She knew she was dying.

And Sabé sobbed out helplessly, nodding as tears burned her eyes and flooded her face. "I promise, Padmé, I _promise,_ " she said, half out of her mind from the emotional pain sieging her heart. "I'll die before harm comes to them." She meant it.

Peace and deep love settled onto Padmé's face when Sabé made the promise. Padmé's brown eyes, such a similar shade to Sabé's, became more tranquil as trust and hope filled the depths. Trembling fingers reached up to touch Sabé's cheek softly, whose face was twisted up in efforts not to fully weep at this point. "My decoy. My protector. My loyal bodyguard…" Padmé whispered tenderly, causing Sabé to break anew as memories of their first moments together, fourteen years ago, flew across her mind. They had been so young and so unaware of all the years ahead would bring. "My… truest friend…" Padmé managed faintly, her eyes shining with tears. Her hand fell to her chest, where Sabé strongly grasped it anew, a desperate attempt to somehow transfer her strength. "We… would have been mothers together, Sabé," Padmé said, and she seemed strangely happy about the thought, even as it caused even more soul-crushing dismay in Sabé. All was lost—and she was helpless to stop the coming final moment. Padmé's expression began to fade away. Eyes began to grow dull and glassy. Her fingers loosened under Sabé's.

And panic clutched. "Padmé," Sabé said urgently, then reverted to language from when they'd first been queen and handmaiden: " _Milady._ " Sabé gripped Padmé's hands harder. No. _No!_ Every cell in her screamed to the universe please change this, make it stop, it's not fair, _don't take her from us_. "Please, don't go this way!" she begged, but it was too late. The heart rate monitor was flatlining, and Sabé shook at Padmé's limp hands uselessly. "Padmé. _Padmé_!"

The pleas were in vain. Padmé Amidala Naberrie, the Queen of Peace and Light, a freedom fighter in the political arena, beloved of her people, kind of heart, and loyal to the end… had died. Gone forever, a light extinguished, her children in the same room with her as a life too short ended and passed away from the mortal realm. No amount of begging would bring her back, and it felt as though nothing would ever be beautiful ever again. Plunged into insurmountable grief, Sabé drowned, falling to her knees at Padmé's side, clutching one of her queen's hands uselessly to her face as weak, pathetic sobs shook her core. Every last bit of despair she'd tried to crush away came to the surface. Nothing made sense. And all that was left was pain.

* * *

How long had Sabé stayed there at Padmé's side, unmoving, holding the lifeless hand? She didn't know. She only understood that at a certain point, the babies had been taken to a medical nursery and Obi-Wan had been at her side, coaxing her gently away when the droids began to transfer Padmé to a hovercasket. A new bout of grief had broken over Sabé, who had never known pain so deep such as this. Despite all her losses and hardships in life, this was a new metric, and she was shattered apart inside. How was she supposed to go on like this? She and Obi-Wan were now criminals in the eyes of the new government, doomed to live life on the run or in hiding. Everything that had ever mattered was gone: Zana, lost. Padmé, lost. Anakin, lost. Luke and Leia, parentless. The Republic demolished. The new Empire set to crush the galaxy in its fist. The Jedi Order mercilessly wiped out. Nothing and no one safe or trustworthy. And a baby on the way to join them in this desolate, dangerous, dizzying reality.

Hope seemed nowhere to be found. _Nowhere_.

Obi-Wan helped Sabé walk out of the operating theatre to where Bail and Yoda sadly waited, R2-D2 and C3PO's mutual silence somehow seeming sad too. Dazed and delirious with grief, Sabé wondered if she would ever be all right ever again. Bail seemed to share her sentiments. "I know we've just all been through the unthinkable," he said wearily after a moment to the defeated, mourning group. "But if we're to evade capture and keep Padmé's children safe, we need to make some decisions, and quickly."

Yoda nodded, the most composed out of all of them. "Back to Naboo, we should take Padmé's body," he said gravely, then peered at Sabé carefully. "Lady Sabé, help with connections there, you can?"

Somehow, being needed put some small ability to function back into Sabé. She breathed in and out deeply, requiring a moment to find her way back into coherent thoughts. Her mind, so conditioned to come up with plans of action in dire circumstances, began to turn. A small relief, reminding her that she still had her wits about her. And that was something. They needed someone they could trust. Someone who could help them fabricate certain things and sidestep the Naboo authorities. Sabé and Obi-Wan's names would certainly both be on wanted lists. They would need someone who wouldn't trouble themselves over that. And then, in a small sea of potential helpers, one face stood out most clearly in her mind. "Captain Typho," she said with sudden clarity, realizing there was no other person she would trust as much as him. "He'll help us."

Bail was familiar with him. "Is he trustworthy?" he asked in faint worry.

Sabé watched as Padmé's hovercasket was slowly brought out from the operating theater. Her brief composure was threatened. She forced herself to look at Bail as she battled emotions that could destroy her. "Absolutely."

* * *

Going off to a quiet nearby hallway, Sabé successfully contacted Gregar using Bail's comlink. It was news that Sabé's old academy-mate took badly, but was able to accept. He said he would help, and departed Coruscant for Naboo immediately, where they would later meet. The conversation took a lot out of Sabé, who was so depleted already. Once the transmission cut, she sagged against the wall in the dim hallway, devoid of strength. Never had she felt so tired. So frayed. Like stitches that could no longer hold a garment together. For the first time since… _yesterday?_ … She reached up to make sure the Kyber crystal was still around her neck. It was. Somehow at the touch, the smallest instance of hope echoed in the darkness. Her fingers closed around it as her eyes searched unseeingly upward into the durasteel ceiling above. The pain was unbearable. Silent tears ran down her cheeks, and Sabé half-marveled at how she had not run out of tears. Surely at some point there would be a point her body just couldn't produce them anymore.

A soft sound of approaching footsteps could be heard, and Sabé sniffed, exhaled hotly, and began to let her eyes come away from the ceiling. She knew the footsteps, and didn't bother to wipe her face or attempt to look composed.

"Did you make contact?" the gentle question came.

Sabé nodded so faintly it may not have registered. "Yes, he's on his way to Naboo now to meet us. He'll help." She finally looked at him, not hiding her misery or her broken trust in life. " _Obi-Wan_." His name was said with every ounce of hopelessness she felt. "Everything's gone, just like you said." Her voice was weak. Tearful. His expression was understanding in the most painful of ways. "Nothing's safe anymore." He had been so quiet since Mustafar—and remained so, merely coming over to her and pulling her into the warmth of his arms where he held her softly, closely. Sabé's arms were around him already. He was the only anchor she had left. For a long moment, they just stayed there like that _._ Obi-Wan smelled like the smoke of Mustafar, and Sabé squeezed her eyes shut."What's to become of us?" she finally whispered, more hot tears welling up to spill onto sore skin. "Where will we go? What will we do? What happens to Luke and Leia?"

Obi-Wan drew back, his arms still around her waist loosely. He had always been such a pillar of strength, of conviction. Purpose. And in that moment, all of that was gone. He looked just as lost as she was… perhaps more. "I don't know," he admitted, his voice husky with fearfulness, his eyes glimmering with the threat of tears. "Where to go. What to do."

It only worried her more to see him like that. Sabé's mind was working on overdrive, sending her into dark territory. "I'm so afraid, Obi-Wan," she whispered, swallowing painfully as her eyes went low for a moment. "And it's not just the two of us anymore." The recent discovery of pregnancy sent more and more fear and uncertainty through her. More and more staunch confusion. More and more sorrow. "I don't know how it happened, I have the implant," she said, almost feeling guilty at this point. It was the worst and most terrible timing imaginable.

"The implants are ninety-nine point nine-nine percent effective," Obi-Wan reminded. Somehow, that fact seemed to cause him some softness, the ghost of humor briefly flitting by. "With odds like that, I suppose we have a very strong willed little youngster on the way to us."

Sabé wanted to smile. She wanted to laugh. She wanted to trade jokes about how stubborn this child would be if he or she was anything like them. This was a moment that was supposed to be joyful. Happy. And that had been stolen from them by the Empire. By the Dark Side. By the greatest betrayal the Republic had ever been dealt. And Sabé couldn't smile. "It wasn't supposed to be like this," she said in a tight, warped voice through the onset of more grief.

Obi-Wan held her close again, somehow able to provide comfort even in the depths of his own sadness. For a moment, they stayed like that, each remembering how it was a miracle that they were here together at all.

As Sabé calmed again, she steeped slowly in deep anxiety. They'd never even spoken about creating a family together. They'd never broached that subject at all. A fear that tore her apart even further inside was that her beloved Obi-Wan… a man who had never imagined traditional things for his life… didn't want what was going to happen. "Obi-Wan…" she ventured in a ragged whisper against his shoulder. "Are you prepared to be a father? In a time like this?" she pulled back, needing to see his face. He was listening, and all she could tell is that he was pained. "And do you even want to be?" she asked, feeling like she'd be ruined if he said no. "What kind of world is this to bring children into, anyway?" she continued, full of fears, full of disjointed terrors of good things being torn away from her. "Luke and Leia will never know their mother," she said, voice trembling and rising distress. "What if something like that happens to me?"

Obi-Wan shook his head, stopping her there. "You cannot let yourself think like that," he said in gentle firmness, then he thought for a few torturous seconds about her questions. "Fatherhood was never a thought in my mind," he admitted slowly. "And why would it have been." A very fair point. "But when we began to talk about life after the war…" he trailed off, and the look in his eyes made her stomach jolt. "Sometimes, I did wonder what that aspect of life might be like with you," he murmured, not without great conflict and apprehension though. It would have been a thrilling and beautiful thing to hear from him before all this. Despite the ocean of defeat surrounding Sabé, his words warmed her and gave her small hope. Obi-Wan seemed resolute, latching onto the hope he saw growing in Sabé's eyes. He was willing. And full of heartfelt love. "I don't know how," he said apprehensively. "And I'm afraid I'll fail you and our child. But I _will_ try."

"… _Fail_?" Sabé repeated, her heart breaking again as she began to understand much more about his silence after Mustafar.

"This is all my fault, Sabé," Obi-Wan said inconsolably. His emotions were rising, his eyes shining and avoiding looking into hers. His touch faltering away from her. "I failed." His voice began to warp and twist with pain. "My training led the Chosen One astray."

Sabé didn't let him slip away from her touch, instead holding onto him with a gentleness that was firm and demanded to be recognized. " _No_. Stop it." She shook her head, afraid she would lose him to. "You know that's not true," she said, begging him to agree.

"Isn't it?" A single gut wrenching question, followed by a wavering voice and a tear rolling down onto his cheek. "I feel like a curse. Everything I've ever touched has died. And you're the last thing in the galaxy I have left." He was miserable… ashamed… and stricken. "I'm afraid too, Sabé."

 _Oh, Obi-Wan_. His words ruined her. She couldn't bear to see him like this. "You're not a curse," she whispered in a voice that could find no strength. Touching his face with all the gentleness and tenderness she felt, her thumb wiped the tear away softly. How could she make him see? How could she stop him from feeling this way? She knew she couldn't take his burden from him, and that was what hurt the most. "You're the light left in my life," she told him, so confused on everything except what she felt for this man. She stifled a sob and let out a shaky breath as she told him, "And you're all I have left too."

Again, they held each other, both crying softly, bottomless wells of sorrow and grief.

Both were left to come to terms with a world they had never anticipated existing in. Both were left to be afraid and uncertain of what would come next.

Yes, they had each other. But the fear was that they would somehow be torn apart like everything else had been, too.

* * *

Shortly afterward, Bail, Sabé, Obi-Wan, and Yoda gathered in the still-docked _Tantive IV's_ meeting room. A pristine white space with gleaming red controls and black panels, the room stood in stark contrast to Obi-Wan and Sabé's dingy appearances. The couple sat together on one side of the rounded table with Yoda opposite. Luke and Leia were nearby in the medical facility nursery still with the R2-D2 and C3PO watching over them.

"All right, now that we're all here," Bail started, taking a seat at the head of the table. The mood in the room was drawn and tense. Resigned. "What news do you have, Miss Sabé?"

While more composed than before, Sabé knew she looked as terrible as she felt. Speaking felt like the most exhausting thing she'd ever done. "Captain Typho is willing to help and he's making arrangements." She looked down unseeingly into the table surface. "We just have to… to take Padmé's body back to Naboo." She swallowed a pang and then volunteered what she and Obi-Wan had discussed just before entering into Bail's ship. "Obi-Wan and I will do that. We'll fly her ship back and make sure everything's taken care of."

Bail nodded grimly as Yoda raised a finger. "Pregnant, she must still appear."

Sabé confirmed soberly. "Yes Master, I made him aware."

A brief and tense silence filled the quiet, circulating ship air. "What happened when you confronted General Skywalker, Master Obi-Wan?" Bail asked gingerly.

Obi-Wan's gaze was immediately avoidant. "He… turned to the Dark Side before I even stepped foot onto Mustafar." There was a brief shake of the head accompanied by a wounded tone. "The man we knew is gone." Under the table, Sabé reached out to hold his hand, which was a tight fist over his knee.

"Kill him, you did?" Yoda asked. He sounded doubtful.

Obi-Wan shamefully met his Master's gaze. "No. I left him for dead. I… couldn't cast the final blow." He looked away, voice losing strength. "I just couldn't."

Yoda became thoughtful and shrewd. "So survived, he may have."

Obi-Wan considered, and his guilt seemed to double. "I'm not sure."

Yoda processed and nodded, then set his mouth in determination. "In either case. Hidden, safe, the children must be kept." He looked at everyone present in brief turn. "The new Emperor. Want them, he will."

Sabé felt a bristling of protective instincts. She wouldn't allow it. "How do we hide them?" she asked intently, willing to do just about anything to do so. Padmé had trusted Sabé to see that Luke and Leia were safe, and it wasn't a promise Sabé had made lightly.

Beside her, Obi-Wan shifted. "We must make certain the Sith will not sense their presence."

Chilled at the realization that _of course_ Padmé and Anakin's children were Force sensitive, Sabé looked sidelong at him with a confused frown. "What kind of location would that be?"

"Not so much where," Yoda put in knowingly. "Split up, they should be." A dawning, shocked expression came over Sabé's face. "Safest that way, it is," Yoda continued regretfully. "Powerful, I sense they will become. Intwined, their Force energy. A beacon, that could become."

Sabé understood as far as she could. "But… separating them?" She protested in newly developing grief. Was there any end to the tragedy being written here today? "Surely there's another way Master Yoda."

Yoda looked directly at her, sympathetic. "Think so, I do not. Know of each other, they cannot. Meet or spend time together, they cannot. Too dangerous, for now, it would be."

Another devastating blow. Sabé found herself looking down as she reeled from this newest development. But who? Who would love and care for these children? Who would provide them homes? As soon as she asked herself that, a stunning possibility came into her mind. Before she could fully think it through, Bail spoke. He had a certain softness to his tone. A willingness. "My wife and I will gladly take Leia," he said, drawing all gazes to himself. "We've always talked of adopting a baby girl."

Yoda nodded, seeming to accept it readily. "Yes. Good."

"She will be loved with us," Bail promised, and Sabé instantly believed him. A small measure of relief grew. Yes. Padmé would have agreed to that. But… what about Luke? Again, Sabé's mind whispered, nudging her.

"And the boy?" Yoda asked.

Sabé looked at Obi-Wan, her unspoken idea taking more and more shape. And the second their eyes met, she was astonished to see that she understood Obi-Wan was thinking the exact same thing as she was. Taken aback but quickly given to a small feeling of joy and confirmation, Sabé felt a great turn of tenderness in the deepest parts of her chest. It made sense. It fit. It felt right. _Do you think so, too?_ she felt him ask, not so much words, but a feeling. Sabé nodded faintly. A ready and willing _yes. I agree._ It was the right choice. It made sense. And it left a sudden wealth of hope and peace springing up against all the despair. Obi-Wan nodded ever so faintly too, his expression showing similar sentiments. Under her hand still holding his fist, he softened his grip and opened his hand to hers, interlacing the fingers together. A symbol and a reassurance that they would do this together. Face their mutual duty as one. He sat up a little straighter and looked at the other Jedi in the room. For the first time that day, he sounded something like his old self. "Master Yoda. We will take him."

Yoda was mildly surprised. " _Two_ children, you will raise, Master Obi-Wan?" he asked with great interest.

"I'm sorry… two children?" Bail asked, his brow furrowed deeply in confusion.

Sabé's eyes slid to the Senator's meekly. "I'm pregnant, Bail." A quiet confession. The first time she'd said the words out loud. It didn't even feel real yet.

Astonished not for the first time that day, Bail quickly tried to cover his surprise. "Oh, I—that's marvelous—my congratulations, of course!" He then paused and smiled, a growing understanding there as he glanced between Sabé and Obi-Wan with a gentle, admiring expression. "A glimmer of hope in the rubble," he declared fondly as he wrapped his mind around the idea and simultaneously refrained from asking any intrusive questions. "In that case, Luke will be well cared for indeed, I'm sure—and given a brother or sister, too. But where will you go, Obi-Wan and Sabé?"

Sabé shared a brief, contemplative glance with Obi-Wan. Their lives and future, both changing so rapidly "We'll have to make some more quick decisions I suppose," she said.

Obi-Wan agreed, thoughtful. "Yes. Somewhere small, out of the way." It was hard to read his emotions right then. All he gave away was that he was thinking deeply. "Somewhere that two wanted people and two children can hide at length without being noticed."

Bail nodded. "I will make sure to give you any amount you need to travel and put a roof over your heads," he promised. "Establish yourselves wherever you decide to go."

It was kindness that had greater effect than Bail could know. The gratitude brought a new kind of tears to Sabé's vision even as Obi-Wan managed a faint smile, too. "Thank you, Senator," he said. "We'll let you know what conclusion we come to as soon as possible."

It was certainly a pressing decision they needed to make as quickly as possible, but there was another thing on Sabé's mind. "The younglings that got out of the Temple," she said, anxiety raising back up a few notches, sadness creeping back in. With her RDI commissioned comlink gone and being aware that Rett would have already ditched his too, she was lost as to how to contact him. "I don't know how to find Rett—he's the one who has them."

Yoda immediately understood her concerns and sobered. "After them, the new Emperor will be."

Bail thought quickly. "I'll get some of my people on it," he said. "We'll do our best to find them."

"If recovered they are, in secret, they must live," Yoda said wearily, shaking his head as his ears flattened slightly. "So sad. Such loss. Take it, my heart cannot."

Everyone in that room understood… and felt the same. So much had changed. And they were all on their own, more or less.

"You Master Yoda?" Obi-Wan ventured after a moment. "Where will you go?"

Yoda gave a thoughtful, deep _hmm_. Then answered. "Dagobah. One of the purest places in the galaxy, it is. Strong, is the Force's presence there." He breathed in deeply, exhaling with another soft _hmm_. "Healing, I hope to find."

Another short silence passed.

"I suppose this may be the last time I see any of you for awhile," Bail said heavily as the finality of it all settled in. "You all have my respect, and I will always be here to help you however possible."

Obi-Wan managed a thankful nod. "Thank you, Senator Organa." He set the politician with a questioning look. "Will you continue to serve this new Imperial Senate?"

Bail chewed on the question mentally for a few seconds. "Yes, I think so," he said. "I'll be able to affect the greatest change using my political position." His eyes held a sparkle of assurance. "Make no mistake, myself and others will do everything we can to subvert this new terrorist regime."

 _The datafile!_ Sabé suddenly touched the front of her chest, feeling around with frantic fingers… and then was promptly relieved when she felt the shape in her torso pocket. She fished out the small datafile, relieved anew when she verified that it was in one piece. Another huge blow of realization hit her when she looked at the object Braxis had given to her in his final moments. Sabé wondered about Leda Voth. Jego. And Daggoth. She supposed she would always wonder. She looked at Bail then, and extended the file his way. "Bail, you'll need this." He took it from her, his expression curious. "Names," she explained. "Locations. Intel. The Group's work… all in there. Information that could get a person killed."

Bail looked caught off guard, and cognizant of just how significant a piece of information was being given to him. "I understand," he said gravely. "I will make good use of it, I promise you." He carefully tucked it into a pocket and Sabé watched the datafile disappear with fractional wistfulness and distress. She was leaving a life behind and going into a new one. It was still a loss, no matter what angle she thought of it from. And it still hurt… still left her feel like she was abandoning a post. Her expression was telling, and Bail spoke to her unsaid feelings. "You've done more than your share." He then smiled conspiratorially. "And who knows, the future is still unwritten. We may yet see you return to be part of the rebellion against this new Empire."

Sabé's gaze lifted from his pocket, a small smile on her face. "'The Rebellion'…" she repeated, testing the sound of that label. "That has a ring to it."

He smiled back, seeming to come to the same conclusion that she did. "It does, doesn't it?" He then glanced between the two silent and thoughtful Jedi masters and saw that it was time to give some space. "I'll leave you three to discuss matters," he said, standing up. "I need to contact my wife, and tell her the situation. I'm sure she'll be very happy indeed, if a little surprised." With a steady smile, Bail gave a polite nod, then exited the room with a swirl of cape.

Yoda sighed out lengthily once they were left alone. "Sorry to be so close to parting ways, I am."

Obi-Wan grew more gaunt. "Is this really the end of the Jedi Order?" he asked in a quiet, small voice. Sabé contemplated him sidelong, grieving on his behalf. His entire way of life—taken away in the blink of an eye. Hers too, but not exactly the same way. All the lives lost, all the Jedi who had been betrayed… it was too much to think about or even understand at this point.

Yoda shook his head, somehow still optimistic. "No, the end, it is not. Only the beginning, perhaps. In fact. Master Kenobi. Gone the Temple may be, but training I have for you."

"Training?" Obi-Wan asked, growing fractionally more bright, but guardedly so.

"An old friend has learned the path to immortality," Yoda confirmed. "One who has returned from the netherworld of the Force to train me… your old Master, Qui-Gon Jinn."

Obi-Wan's expression was stunned. " _Qui-Gon_?" Beside him, Sabé was similarly wide-eyed.

"The secret of the Ancient Order of the Whills, he studied," Yoda said, and Sabé's hand drifted to touch the spot where her Kyber crystal rested beneath fabric. _Chirrut_. "How to commune with him. I will teach you," Yoda continued. "How to join the Force, he will train you. _And_ I think, the two young ones in your care."

Sabé honed in on statement that with widening eyes. "You think our child will be Force sensitive?" she asked, a little more breathless than she had been a moment prior. It had implications she hadn't even considered.

Yoda looked at her with a knowing glint. "I have seen visions—powerful, she will be."

Sabé was captivated and entranced. Suddenly overjoyed. " _She_."

"Yes," Yoda replied solemnly. "Train them both, you must, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan had grown conflicted at the mention of his master: both disbelieving and eager, but apprehensive and worried. But the command to train Luke alongside their unborn daughter left a resistant, terrified look on his face. "No Master, I cannot possibly. Not after—"

Yoda cut him off gently. "Peace, Obi-Wan. When the time is right, ready you will be." Smiling kindly, the old Master spoke to Obi-Wan in a way Sabé had never heard before. Gentle. Knowing. Accepting. "A father, you are about to become. Change, your world will, I think." Almost appearing satisfied, the little green Master eyed Sabé and Obi-Wan in turn. "Glad you have each other, I am," he said genuinely. "Perhaps wrong, the Order was, about the specifics of attachment. Attached, you are. But balance… balance I sense. Strength, not weakness."

They were words Sabé hadn't known she needed to hear. Drawn to look at Obi-Wan, she found him looking back at her. The future was a vast unknown. But they were going to navigate it together. They were going to take on the unforeseen as one. It wasn't the future they'd asked for or wanted. But it was still their future. Fear and doubt filled the possibilities, but so did hope. Balance. And strength. Despite everything, Sabé smiled at Obi-Wan, feeling so much love for this man. He managed something like a smile back. _I love you_. She felt his words in her deepest parts, and she echoed the sentiment. _I love you too_. And sensing that he and Yoda had some private things to attend to and go over, she gave his hand a squeeze before she excused herself. "I'll go check on the twins while you two finish here." She stood and left, leaving the two surviving Jedi to themselves.

Obi-Wan, while still downtrodden, uncertain, and under enormous stress, somehow was able to summon curiosity as Sabé disappeared. "Master Yoda, I'm surprised. I thought you were against our relationship," he said. "And yet today… you seem to approve."

Yoda remained gentle and insightful. "Changed, things have. The new way comes." The new way. Obi-Wan wondered what exactly Yoda meant. "Alone, you should not be, Obi-Wan. Easier it will be, bearing the burden across four shoulders instead of two." There was kindness and warmth in his dark eyes. "Love her, you do. And good, it is." Yoda leveled Obi-Wan with a gaze that briefly sparkled with promises of good things somehow to come. "Now, begin we will!"

* * *

The twins cooed and gargled softly, arms flailing in the loose wraps they'd been blanketed in. Sabé leaned closely over the shallow crib they laid in, studying them softly. Noticing the differences in their noses and foreheads, the shapes of their lips… watching the telltale rise and fall of little chests. Life, in the place of death. Hope, in the place of despair. It was surreal. It was painful. It was all so sudden.

Sabé's hand gently rested onto Luke's little torso and one of his hands reached, fingers flexing and unflexing, searching for something to grab onto. She raised her pointer finger and he took hold—his grasp was surprisingly strong, sending a surge of overcome love and sadness through her again. Padmé's legacy. "I'll love you like my own," she whispered, tears in her eyes again before she stroked the back of Leia's little head gently. "And I'll live to see you two meet again. I promise."

Padmé's loss would forever be felt. And now Sabé would be reminded every day of the mother Luke should have had. Now Obi-Wan would be reminded every day of the father Luke would never know. _Anakin_. Sabé felt tears filling her eyes again as she gazed at these two innocent infants who knew nothing of the world they'd just come into. Inevitably, her thoughts turned to the other new life that wasn't here yet. _Two_ children, she and Obi-Wan were now charged with guarding and protecting and raising. Luke, and… their daughter. Sabé's mind turned that thought over again, sunshine peeking through the inner clouds, love growing unbidden. She thought about someday, years from now, her daughter and Padmé's son… growing up as siblings. Loved and sheltered by herself and Obi-Wan. It was bittersweetly beautiful, sending feelings of elation and fear into her at the same time. She only hoped she would be able to protect them well enough.

Nearby, she heard movement, and glanced over. Obi-Wan was approaching, briefly sharing a hopeful glance with Sabé as he came to stand at her side. "How are they?"

She straightened and joined him in gazing down. "I wanted them to be close while they still can be," she explained quietly, sadness descending again. She'd moved the babies into the same bed when she'd come in here, allowing them some time together outside the womb before they were pulled apart. Looking at Obi-Wan with great worry, she tried to gauge where his mind was. "Are you sure about this?" she asked, needing to know that he was as fully committed as she was. "Life, in hiding? Two children in tow?"

Obi-Wan drew in a deep breath and then looked at her steadily. His reply wasn't immediate, but it was deliberate. "We stay together," he said. "No matter the circumstances." He looked at the children, and a deeply bittersweet expression grew. "The rest, I'll concern myself with later." He thought for a moment then exhaled heavily… apprehensively. He looked at her again with a tentative expression. "I think I know where we ought to go, Sabé. But I don't think you're going to like it."

A bold statement to make, which immediately drew Sabé's shrewd interest. "Where?"

Obi-Wan was reluctant and worried. "The first place we ever went together."

Sabé felt her mouth softly open into an expression of knowing incredulity. He was right. She didn't like that. "Tatooine."

She thought back to the endless sand. The oppressive heat. "Anakin— _Vader_ —will never set foot there again," Obi-Wan said, his voice small but convicted. "I'm sure of it." Sabé said nothing, just thought deeply for a long couple of seconds then grudgingly nodded, accepting it outright. She trusted him to make this decision, and knew that anywhere good for hiding from the reach of the Emperor would be desolate. Obi-Wan seemed bewildered by the lack of defiance. "It won't be easy," he said.

An obvious one. "I know."

"It will be dangerous," he continued. As if he wanted her to fight him on it.

Sabé found herself being half-heartedly sarcastic with a weary little smile too. "I _do_ have some training in self defense and tactics, if you recall."

Obi-Wan was more and more emotional with every negative assessment he gave. "It's a questionable place to raise children."

Yes it was. But Sabé didn't see alternatives. They were fugitives. And they had to do what was best for the safety of their little group. "Do we have a choice?"

Obi-Wan relented. And then his true feelings were revealed as his expression flickered and voice lost its vitality. "It's not the life I wanted to give you."

She immediately understood. And it did hurt. Their dreams, however small and recent, had been dashed. "It's life," Sabé whispered, seeking his eyes and hoping to find the man she loved in there beyond his pain and trauma. "Together." He met her gaze, eyes full of conflict and distress. "That's enough," she said, convincing herself of it too. "It has to be."

Obi-Wan drew closer to her and pressed his forehead in to hers silently, as if to garner relief or strength. Sabé needed the same things, and shut her eyes, holding onto him closely as worries about their relationship plagued her. It _would_ be hard. It _would_ be dangerous. And they would either gain strength from each other, or allow the situation to tear them apart completely.

* * *

Within the hangar bay they had hastily made their landing into, Bail, Yoda, R2-D2, and C3PO waited between _Tantive IV_ and Padmé's gleaming star skiff. Bail held Leia closely as Obi-Wan and Sabé approached them, Luke a small bundle against Sabé's chest. It was time to part ways. Obi-Wan had a small satchel of newborn supplies the staff had given them for the journey, matching the one Bail carried too.

"Decided where to go, you have?" Yoda asked when the couple arrived, appraising them curiously.

"Yes Master," Obi-Wan said, his tone tired. "Tatooine." Thoughtful, Yoda nodded gravely, approving of the choice.

Bail pulled out a small velvet sack and handed it over to Obi-Wan. "Here. Enough credits to build a life with and have an emergency fund as well."

Humbled, Obi-Wan took the money. "Thank you Bail," he said, trying to hide his more disgraced feelings. "Your kindness will never be forgotten."

Bail smiled bravely at the both of them. "May safety follow your footsteps," he declared, then went close to Sabé, allowing the twins to be close one last time. As their little arms flailed and legs kicked underneath their swaddles, Bail regarded Sabé somberly and seriously. "Keep in touch wherever possible, will you?"

Sabé managed a nod and looked into Bail's eyes. "We will." She swallowed a painful lump in her throat. "Take care of her, Bail."

The Senator nodded, his expression intense. "I swear that I will." Again reassured that he was trustworthy and the right choice to be Leia's adoptive father, Sabé could breathe a little easier. As Bail turned to begin to board his ship, he set a questioning frown at Artoo and Threepio. "What about these droids?" he asked.

They'd been Padmé's and Anakin's. Sabé shook her head, seeing no need to take them back to Naboo. In fact, the idea of Leia growing up with these droids seemed fitting. "They're yours now," she said.

Threepio gave a little bow. "We will be happy to serve the Organa family, I'm sure," he said, then clunked the astromech at his side across the dome after a brief little string of animated beeps. "Oh stop it, Artoo." The droids began to follow Bail into the ship, but he paused and waited when Yoda remained unmoving.

"Master Yoda, shall we?" he asked.

Yoda hobbled forward to Sabé. "Young Luke, I want to see," he requested, and Sabé crouched down, letting the Jedi Master look into the sleepy youngster's face. "A path before you unlike all others, you will walk," Yoda told him softly, letting a green clawed hand gently touch the baby's face. "Lost a sister you have, but gained another in a way, too." Luke cooed, and Yoda chuckled ever so softly. "Young Skywalker. May the Force be with you," he said, then looked up to Sabé. "And you, lady Sabé. Master Obi-Wan." He began to move away from them, and as Sabé rose to her full height, Yoda looked back with a curiously knowing little smile on his face. "Meet again, I think we will."

Obi-Wan stood more closely at Sabé's side, letting his arm go around her as they watched Yoda go. Once the ramp retracted into the ship and the engines came on, a great wind came blowing across the bay. Sabé held Luke protectively, a hand on the back of his head as wind whipped at her clothes and hair. The feeling of being left was unmistakable, and Sabé looked at Obi-Wan, whose eyes were full of unfallen tears. He was watching the last Jedi he knew leave. Sabé leaned her forehead into his neck, wishing so hard to be able to comfort him. Instead, her own tears came as she watched _Tantive IV_ lift out of the bay and up into the dark sky.

And thus, the twins were separated. Ashes from the crown of their mother, a legacy left that would dwell in secrecy for many, many years.


	40. Exodus

Under a tapestry of brilliant sparkling stars in the Naboo sky, Obi-Wan sat in the lush grass carpeting the hilltop overlook. In the valley below, the lake glittered with reflections of moonlight. Soft, low calls of birds echoed in the cool night air. Little chirping insects, seen but not heard, chorused sweetly as a gentle breeze stirred the land and pushed softly at the shock of hair falling across the Jedi Master's brow. He remained unmoving, captive to and crippled by the desolation he felt inside.

"… _I hate you!…"_

The scream echoed through his thoughts ceaselessly, breaking his heart anew each time. It was impossible to stop seeing the memory of yellow, dead eyes that burned with malice—eyes that had once looked up to Obi-Wan from the face of a ten year old boy who asked, "Can you tell me more about the Force, Mister Obi-Wan sir? Sorry, I mean Master?"

His eyes ached anew.

_Where did I go wrong? How did this happen?_

The tranquil landscape in front of him gave no answer. It remained offensively serene, uninterested in personal tragedy.

Behind Obi-Wan, Sabé's childhood home was lit warmly from the inside—a temporary shelter and hiding place as around them, the Empire descended like a heavy veil promising suffocation.

Even when they'd first landed in Theed today to meet Gregar, deliver Padmé's body in the hovercasket, and make sure the captain understood what secrets needed to be kept, they'd glimpsed clone patrols out in the city streets, checking IDs and looking for persons of interest. For Obi-Wan, it had been incredibly traumatizing and shocking to see the same troopers that had so recently fought at his and every other commanding Jedi's side. The feeling of betrayal and treachery it inspired, the feeling of hopeless despair… it was too much. A crushing reminder that the Jedi Order was no more. He still couldn't believe it. But he did feel it. A great and terrible loss. A blankness remaining. A loneliness he couldn't fathom.

To get out of the city safely, he and Sabé used the very same waterfall passages they had used so long ago to sneak _into_ Theed… and that was a moment of very painful nostalgia that they shared a weighted glance over when they both mutually realized the significance. Sabé had clutched baby Luke to herself even closer, and Obi-Wan had once more realized just how great and terrible the stakes were. The danger was unspeakable, and would only grow more pronounced as Palpatine continued to assert his power over the galaxy at large.

Once they made it out into the plains below Theed, DC-10 met them in the Nebira family landspeeder and spirited them away to a quieter, slower part of Naboo: Sabé's birthplace and hometown, Ryrore. Here they would spend the night, gather things, and then depart for Tatooine the next day. Gregar was in the process of getting them a ship to fly out, and had promised to have something by the next day around noon.

Since Mustafar, Obi-Wan had been trying to hold himself together, be present where needed, and cling to hope so that he didn't go completely numb. But still… he'd shut down. He remained shellshocked, still reeling from it all, given no chance to sit with his feelings until right now. About thirty minutes ago he'd been trying to help Sabé with giving Luke his formula and settling him down to sleep, but Sabé had gently, lovingly insisted he go take a moment for himself. Obi-Wan had done so, but guiltily. It didn't feel right—it seemed selfish. But as his thoughts spun, he understood that this was a necessary part of processing everything.

The world was changing so quickly, falling out of Obi-Wan's grasp. Almost nothing was left to hold onto. He was left to feel deadened and dazed, incapable of focusing very long on anything except trying to wrap his mind around what had happened. He went over every memory he could summon of Anakin, trying to find the signs he should have seen… trying to _understand_ when the path had taken the turn toward its final, terrible destination.

Inevitably, his thoughts turned to young Luke. Obi-Wan had been the first person to hold the new babe in his first moments of life and a feeling of love and sadness alike had ripped through him to hold that little life in his arms. Was it foolish to hope that somehow, by taking and raising this child, he could achieve some sort of amends to the apprentice he had failed? He already knew that he would never look at Luke without seeing echoes of his father. _I just hope I can protect you from what I could never protect Anakin from._

Fear crept. Was he being foolishly optimistic again? Was he doomed to repeat his mistakes? Was this pride dictating his decisions, or duty? The responsibilities weighed on him anew. Life in hiding. With Sabé, with Luke, with the daughter Master Yoda said they would have. Obi-Wan had no idea about how to have a family or be a father. _What if I fail at all of this? I cannot take the thought._ Propping his elbows onto his bent knees and bowing his head into his hands, Obi-Wan took a long, forlorn moment to scrub his face slowly as he resisted succumbing to more tears. But it all hurt so deeply. It all left him feeling so alone with his vast worries. He raised his eyes to the sky above. _"Be with me,"_ he whispered in utter softness, a heartfelt plea offered to the Force. To the universe. To anyone.

So faintly it could have been imagined, a reply came. " _I always have been_."

Startling, Obi-Wan looked around with wide eyes. He knew that voice! Qui-Gon?! But no one was there. Only the breeze. Only the birds.

Master Yoda said it would take time for the connection to grow… said it would begin slowly and meagerly. The voice didn't speak again, and Obi-Wan slackened, slouching again over his knees as the momentary astonishment subsided. He truthfully felt unprepared to speak with his old master. Ashamed of himself. Wounded and limping. Qui-Gon would be disappointed in him, wouldn't he? How could he be anything but?

Being here on Naboo anguished Obi-Wan's soul, calling him back to the time when he and Qui-Gon had first stepped foot onto this virile planet and been absolutely unaware of how much change was to come. Anakin. Tatooine. The return of the Sith. Qui-Gon's death. Sabé. As he thought back, Obi-Wan again registered how all of it had started both here on Naboo and on Tatooine. Perhaps it was poetic symmetry that it would end these places, too.

Obi-Wan tried not to concern himself with fears for the future, but still they came. Tatooine was a hostile place. Among other things, he was asking Sabé to endure a pregnancy and give birth there. He would probably have to learn how to deliver a child—he doubted there were reputable or accessible hospitals there. And what about after their daughter was born? There were things like health, education, and socialization to consider for both the children. They'd need consistent income for food and clothing and supplies. They'd need to assume cover names as to never rouse any suspicions. They'd need to stay to themselves. A life alone in an unforgiving desert… hermits. Outcasts by choice. Would Sabé be able to be happy in such a scenario? Would she fall out of love, growing tired of their life of lack when it became too much? Would the children resent him?

Obi-Wan realized he was becoming unreasonable, his thoughts growing more and more wild as he made suppositions. So he reached out for an anchor to pull him back down to clarity. _Keep your focus here and now, where it belongs._ He breathed deeply, closing his eyes and drawing strength from his master's words spoken to him so long ago. _Here and now_ , he repeated to himself. _Where I belong._

Hearing soft movement behind him, Obi-Wan opened his eyes and turned just slightly, watching Sabé come to join him. She sat at his side readily, heaving an exhausted sigh as she did. Like him, Sabé hadn't changed yet—her hair was still unkempt, soot from Mustafar was still visible streaked across her jaw, temple, and cheek. Her flightsuit was singed in spots. Somehow, she still managed to be the most beautiful woman Obi-Wan had ever seen, and his heart unclenched a little at her presence. She was a reminder of good things. Of beauty. She smiled tiredly at him, a brave little expression she had to dig deep to give to him. Obi-Wan knew he wasn't the only one suffering in great ways currently.

He asked after Luke softly. "How is he?"

Sabé mirrored his body language, a forearm resting on a propped knee. "Sleeping well, with DC watching." She sounded as exhausted as he felt, contemplating middle distance for a moment before letting her eyes appraise him. In the darkness, with the side of her face lit a golden color from the lights of the house, she studied him closely. "You?" Her eyes searched his face fully and carefully, empathy traced into her features. "How are you?"

Feeling guilty that he could not summon more of himself, Obi-Wan looked away, unable to meet her steady gaze. It was a difficult question. "…I don't know," he admitted softly, a hoarseness in his voice brought on by his fragile emotional condition. Trying to rally himself back to strength, he found little there to shore himself up with. He could only realize another broken dream. "Do you remember when we used to talk about living here someday?" he asked, remembering their pillow talk. Sometimes they'd joke about moisture farming—but much more constant, the talk had turned to this lake house. "It seems so long ago," he said, thinking out loud and mourning for a time that had seemed so much simpler… galactic war and all.

Sabé sounded similarly gutted and somber about those memories. "I know." Obi-Wan stole a glance at her sidelong and saw how tears gleamed low in her eyes as she searched the view before them with heartfelt longing. "Do you think we'll ever be able to come back here again?" Obi-Wan could hear the sorrow in her voice and it made him all the sadder. He lost the Temple, the only home he ever knew… and now Sabé would leave behind the home she grew up in. There wasn't even time to sell it properly. They were just going to abandon it, as one might abandon a sinking ship on the ocean.

Obi-Wan deliberated, a sick feeling in his stomach. "Sabé… if you don't want this, you don't have to come with me," he said after a moment, garnering an immediate and surprised look from her. "I can raise Luke," he offered, thinking somehow he would be saving her some burden. Give her some choice back. Relieve her of any obligation she felt. "You and… and our daughter can live a life free of all this," he said past the pain squeezing his throat half shut.

Her astonishment faded to something like weary hurt. "How can you think I'd ever leave you alone in all this?" she asked, then grew fractionally more wounded. "Do _you_ not want to be together anymore?"

He realized the implication and felt appalled at himself for not realizing his words and checked-out attitude could be taken that way. "Of, of course I want to be together," he managed while feeling weaker by the second. "But I'm so broken, Sabé." Words said in a faltering, pathetic sounding voice. He didn't know what was left of him to love—he didn't know how he could love her in return with such a damaged spirit. He cast his head away woefully, upset that he was becoming upset. Where was the calm of the Force? Where was the reassurance and purpose usually so freely given? "I'm not supposed to feel like this," he went on, warring within himself. He was supposed to be able to set aside feelings and emotions that did not serve him. And he wasn't able to _at all_. Not now anyway. All he wanted was to be enveloped in the tranquility he knew the Force could provide… yet it was so far away from him. "The Force has grown quiet," he said, stricken and feeling like a hollow shell. The enormity of his feelings swallowed him whole. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to move past this."

Sabé listened to him, downtrodden to say the least. "I don't know if I can either," she revealed momentarily, working to keep composure. With sadness, Obi-Wan's eyes met hers. Oh, how it hurt to see the pain in her gaze. She contemplated him for a few beats, eyes flickering around in the depths of his. "They say every storm has to run out of rain eventually," she murmured, voice taut with conflict. "So I just have to believe that it won't always be like this."

But how could it ever be good again? Obi-Wan floundered in the depths of anguish. "I don't feel like there's enough of me left to go on," he said, ashamed of his reality. "To live. I can barely breathe."

Sabé was grieved right along with him. "I know, Obi-Wan, I know."

Obi-Wan's head bowed, hanging almost. "And I don't even know if I want to speak to Qui-Gon. To have to face him." The thought of seeing the disappointment in Qui-Gon's eyes at Anakin's failed training was a terrible thought. And Obi-Wan was convinced: "If he had trained Anakin, the outcome would have been different."

Sabé shook her head immediately, discounting that assertion. "You don't know that." She looked at Obi-Wan in a gentle but direct way. "And I think that's what Qui-Gon would tell you, too." When he didn't lift his head or react in any other way, Sabé reached out. Touched him on the shoulder. And he closed his eyes, feeling undeserving of the touch and needing it all the same. "Obi-Wan," she whispered, pained on his behalf. "Anakin was slipping away for a long time. Don't you remember?" He did remember. It was something he'd talked with her about. But still. "It's _not_ your fault," she insisted, like she knew what he was thinking.

He was convinced otherwise. And there were other things on his mind too. "Yoda wants me to train Luke and our child too," he said wretchedly, looking at her for help in knowing how to navigate it. "How can I possibly?"

Empathetic and just as unsure as he was, Sabé scooted closer to him, letting her arm go around his shoulders comfortingly. "That's not in front of you right now. All you need to think about is today."

Obi-Wan could sense how much she just wanted to soothe him and how painful it was for her that she couldn't. He had seen the little looks of loss and defeat since Mustafar when she had tried to be there for him and he'd pushed her away or not been responsive. It was all because Obi-Wan felt like such a failure. Not good enough to look her in the eye, let alone receive any comfort she tried to give. This wall was up between them. He didn't know how to take it down, or if he wanted to. "I'm so sorry," he apologized in a choked voice as he looked anywhere but at her, not knowing how to say all the things in his mind.

Sabé gazed at him, agonized. Understanding. "You don't have to be." Her hand moved to touch the back of his neck, gently holding and supporting. "Obi-Wan, I _love_ you," she said, her voice giving away some wavering, tearful emotion. And he finally looked at her again, wishing briefly that she didn't love him. That she hated him instead—it was what he deserved. "Don't hide from me," she begged in a whisper. "Let me be with you. Even in the pain." Her feelings rippled out from her in the Force, the sensation matched by the look in her eyes, and his heart went out to her, his spirit renewing when he felt that surge of Force energy connecting them. "Maybe I need someone to be with me in my pain too," she whispered, and compassion clutched at Obi-Wan deeply, crumbling the wall he'd built. Just a few moments ago, he'd asked into the void, _be with me_. And Sabé was right here… not needing him to be strong and invincible. Just present. Just real. Obi-Wan began to feel a rising feeling of love and gratitude as his thoughts shifted and the presence of the Force felt closer. He had lost so much—but not everything. Not even close.

Almost fifteen years ago, he remembered seeing the face in front of him for the first time—a heavy shield of paint over the skin, concealing her features in the obscurity of a white mask. But eyes could never been painted, and he would always remember the first time he looked into hers. Instant, his intrigue. A feeling like recognition. That feeling had grown into camaraderie and respect, which had turned into something deeper that stirred the heart to yearn. Never had their relationship been about anything but mutual understanding and shared strength. A walking together—through danger, through uncertainty, through deaths of loved ones, through life change, through war. They were still standing. Or Sabé was at least. And despite her own injuries, she was offering Obi-Wan in his wounded state a shoulder to lean on—so that they could walk through this together, too.

Love poured over him as the Force whispered, guiding him. Reassuring him. Giving him feet to stand on once more. _Sabé_. Obi-Wan reached out and touched the side of her face, so close to his, then let his hand gently rest at the side and back of her neck, thumb gently caressing the sooty skin there. He felt a small and growing smile on his lips that was tainted by sorrow—but it was a smile all the same. Her expression echoed his, and at the same instant, they moved in to close the distance completely, softly. A warm shower of pleasant feelings rained down as they kissed tentatively. When had he last felt those lips on his? Before everything had fallen apart. And in the span of all the brutality, he'd forgotten the miracle of her mouth on his.

Warming, lifting, focusing in on her, Obi-Wan responded to her kiss. Softly and cautiously at first, holding himself back for a few seconds… but he couldn't continue for long. When she gently opened her mouth on his, nudging with her tongue, a soft strangled sound in his throat came free, followed by a burst of assertiveness—a feeling that seemed long forgotten. He took hold of her jaw, kissing her with everything bottled up inside, relishing how she crowded into his space, grabbed at him, touching him in ways that said she adored him and wanted him. It stoked a hot, growing fire in both of them that left them dizzy and breathless, needing to pull apart just to breathe for a second. Obi-Wan could look into her eyes fully then, and did. There he saw his truest friend, his longtime ally, his lover, the mother of his child. It felt like remembering himself to be in her arms like that, to look into those warm eyes reflecting his love back to him. Again, Obi-Wan was reminded that not everything was lost, and he kissed her once more, deeply and burningly.

"Let's go inside," Sabé whispered against his mouth, and her low, husky tone of voice told him what would happen there. A distant, low rumble of thunder sounded just then. Obi-Wan nodded, and they pulled each other up. They went into the same room they'd shared together perhaps a year ago—where they'd slept together platonically after Zana's funeral. At that time, they hadn't so much even as kissed.

In present time as a thunderstorm brewed outside, they yanked and peeled each other's soot-ruined clothes off in a rush between hungry deep kisses, needing each other in ways only grief could demand. Raw would be the way Obi-Wan reflected on their lovemaking afterward. Uncensored and open to each other, it had never been quite so primal or ramped up like it was that night. And afterward, safe in her arms, Obi-Wan fell asleep for the first time since leaving Mustafar behind.

* * *

Sabé was awake again. While Obi-Wan slept heavily in the master bedroom, she'd been in and out of sleep caring for Luke throughout the night.

He needed feedings and changings every couple of hours as newborns did, so Sabé stationed herself at the baby's side with DC-10 nearby to help if possible. Luke was so brand new, and each time Sabé gave him his bottle, she grew more and more soft toward him, noticing every small detail of his little eyelashes, rosebud lips, sweet tiny nose. He was a miracle. And he would be very, very loved indeed. Sabé didn't try to rouse Obi-Wan for assistance at any point, even though she was so very tired—she knew he needed the rest more than she did. At a certain point, Sabé fell asleep with the baby, a hand on his little belly as he slept on the padded bed she'd made for him on the safety of Zana's old bedroom floor. A couple hours later, she'd woken up with him, tuning into his patterns and sounds readily like a mother might with her own child. They repeated this dynamic until the sky began to lighten.

She'd currently just showered, which restored a degree of humanity to her. Afterward, she found some of Mama's old clothing stored away in one of the closets. She now wore one of her simple farmwoman's dresses, which Sabé layered with a soft teal hooded robe. She twisted her dried hair into a functional knotted braid at the back of her head, then with Luke sleeping gently at her chest, she quietly wandered the space of the home, committing it to memory.

Outside, a drizzling light rain blanketed the valley in a gray foggy appearance. It was fitting weather for someone mourning so many losses. Sabé gathered a few more things to take with them to Tatooine and put them into the moving containers along with the clothes and supplies she'd selected. Things that would go with them to their new life: a paper photo of Zana. An old family portrait painting that had been done by a local artist. A wall tapestry depicting Amora, the goddess of safety. Garden tools from the shed outside. A water purifier mount, extra blankets, kitchen supplies and tools.

Even as Sabé was laying out one of her father's old outfits for Obi-Wan to wear later—a floor length gray and rust-orange tunic belted in brown with leggings and an oversized shawl that could be used a hood—there was a sound of alarm from the bedroom he slept in. Luke began to cry in tandem. Rushing from the lounge to open his door quickly, Sabé saw him thrashing, still asleep, his face twisted up in pain. "N—no… no!" he moaned.

Sabé hurried to the bedside, then shook Obi-Wan by the shoulder even while she clutched Luke to herself with one arm and hand. "Obi-Wan— _Obi-Wan_!" she called low and urgent.

He gasped, waking up with huge eyes as he bolted upright, his sweaty chest heaving as his frantic gaze darted around. He saw where he was and slackened, but his expression remained shocked and traumatized. Sitting at his side as Luke still cried, Sabé touched Obi-Wan's arm then face in concern. "A nightmare?"

He nodded, still calming himself. "Yes." His eyes went to the crying baby, and he inexplicably reached for the child. Sabé handed him over, watching with amazement as Luke's cries went away when Obi-Wan cradled the newborn to his shoulder and chest. "Luke felt it too, I think," he said, and Sabé watched with a growing, touched smile as she watched Obi-Wan hold Luke tenderly, seeming to soothe and be soothed at the same time. How was it possible to fall in love with him in a new aspect in such a time like this? Thoughts of seeing him hold their own child flitted across her mind, making sentiment rise even more. Obi-Wan drew Luke away a moment later when they were both calm again, holding him so that he could see and touch the baby's little face. A bittersweet smile came. "You look so much like your father, little one," he murmured. "I promise to keep you safe for as long as I can."

DC-10 entered then, noise from the droid's whirring joints drawing both Sabé and Obi-Wan's attention. The old droid was holding a bottle of formula that had just been warmed out right on schedule and Sabé rose to take it. "Thanks, DC."

She handed the bottle over to Obi-Wan and sat once more, watching as Obi-Wan fed Luke. After a minute, her thoughts turned to darker places. Worries and anxieties. Things they hadn't yet figured out. "What will we tell him?" she asked, knowing that eventually, Luke would be at an age where they would either have to tell him the truth or live a lie. "About his parents?"

Obi-Wan was thoughtful. He seemed more himself than he had last night. "We can tell him the truth," he said after a moment. "That we adopted him after his father was killed in the war. After his mother… passed away giving birth." Their gazes met and held for a long, somber moment. "When he's older, maybe we can tell him everything."

Sabé nodded blankly. There was no guidebook for their situation. And there were so many aspects to this: living together in earnest for the first time… in hiding, with a newborn and another on the way. Dealing with the emotional fallout of everything that had happened. "And what about Leia?" she questioned, thinking of Padmé's other child. "Do we ever tell him about her?" She knew what Yoda had said, but it seemed like _eventually_ at some point the twins would need to know about each other.

Obi-Wan again thought for a moment. "The Force will guide us." His eyes were brighter than she'd seen since Mustafar, and he seemed contented. Calm. Ready.

Smiling, Sabé stood and ruffled his still dirty hair. "That sounds more like the Obi-Wan I know," she said fondly, letting her hand briefly cup against the soft down of Luke's head. "I can take him if you want to take a shower," she said. "And we need to eat something. Then, I have one more place we need to go before we leave here."

Obi-Wan didn't ask where. He probably already knew.

* * *

Later, under the softness of scant drizzle, Sabé crouched at the gravestone slow and reverent, emotion gathering already. Zana's final resting place, and a last goodbye. Clifftop, the ocean crashed far below. Behind her by a few paces, now dressed in her father's old clothes, Obi-Wan held Luke, sheltering him from the wet air. DC-10 waited in the landspeeder, ready to rush them away at a moment's notice. No one was present at the time in the small graveyard, only the refugees and the baby they had with them.

Across the engraved letters of Zana's formal first, middle, and last names, Sabé's fingers gently skimmed: _Izana Rey Nebira._ Smiling despite the tears gathering, Sabé was both immensely proud and completely devastated. Zana had lived up to the meanings of both her names. Izana: gentle of heart. Rey: relentless hope.

Sabé's vision swam. "If my daughter is even _half_ the woman you became, the galaxy will be very lucky indeed," she whispered, missing her sister so very badly in that moment. She held onto the edge of the tombstone then, remembering when Zana was the same height as the stone left bearing her name. "I'll be back someday," Sabé promised softly, eyes pooling with tears both sweet and bitter. "I'll bring your niece to meet her aunt." The details of how she would accomplish this didn't matter. It was something she already knew she needed to do.

Sabé stayed at the grave for a long time, mostly silent. Then finally ready to leave, she stood and rejoined Obi-Wan where they stood as a new family of three who had no choice but to find their way in the dark. They looked at each other at the exact same moment, worlds away from the padawan and handmaiden they had started off as. They had left Naboo for Tatooine together years and years ago, never knowing they'd do it again and like this. This time was different. They had each other. And they slipped hands into each other's, a silent promise that they would not have to walk alone.

* * *

Gregar arrived just before noon, bringing a small, light freighter that appeared Corellian in design. Large enough to hold them and the things they'd packed, small enough not to demand much attention. Nondescript and non-Naboo affiliated.

Appearing the same way they did—gaunt and sad—he approached out of the ship's landing ramp where Sabé, Obi-Wan, and DC-10 waited.

Nodding a quick and furtive hello, he began unstrapping the speederbike he'd attached to the lower hull—his transportation back. Sabé approached him, Luke bundled close to her. "Ship's yours," Gregar said. He was obviously in a hurry and a little on edge. "Should be good to trade with once you're wherever it is you're going." He got the bike detached and then dusted off his hands and heaved a resigned sigh, taking a moment to look her over. His face had changed so much since their young days, and Sabé found herself remembering when they'd been spitfire teenagers who thought they knew everything. He seemed to be reliving his own memories, too, momentarily leaving his more tense energy at the wayside. "I won't see you again, will I?" he asked softly after a second.

Sabé's eyes ached and she tried for an encouraging smile. "Don't think so."

He didn't ask anything else. Didn't intrude or judge. Just let his voice lower and carry the affection they both felt for each other. "Be safe out there, Hurricane Nebira."

The old nickname made the pain worse. "Will do Gregs," Sabé whispered, hoping against hope that her oldest living friend would survive this unscathed.

Hesitating, Gregar debated something silently, then came out with it: "I'm sorry we fought like we did all those years ago," he said heavily, surprising her and touching her all the same. "I shouldn't have let pride get in the way."

Sabé reached out to grip his forearm. "Me either." They'd _both_ been prideful. They were both to blame there. Gregar gripped her forearm in return, a silent compromise and mutual forgiveness there. Then he nodded and stepped back. Obi-Wan approached now, and Gregar gave him a nod.

"Take care of her, Kenobi," he said, then reconsidered his choice of words. "Take care of each other."

Obi-Wan was amiable and grateful. "Take care yourself, Captain," he replied. "We are indebted to you forever for your help."

Gregar shook his head, gravely serious. "No. You're never indebted to me. It's just what friends do." He glanced around furtively again and swung onto his bike. Sabé pressed her mouth into a thin line, attempting another smile. He was risking a lot by aiding fugitives, and his haste to leave was understandable. "May the Force be with you both," Gregar said. "We're gonna need it." And without another word, just a sad glance at Luke, he launched off, quickly becoming a tiny little figure lost in beautiful green countryside as he hurried back to the city.

And so it was time to leave. Sabé looked behind herself at the house—the lake—her home. And resistance to the inevitable grew. "I don't feel ready Obi-Wan," she murmured anxiously. Behind her, DC-10 loaded the things they'd packed into containers onto the starship.

Obi-Wan stood at her side, an arm coming to hug around her. "I don't either."

Readiness or not, they had no choice.

And so they boarded the ship with nothing but a few meager belongings, a droid, a baby, and wretched hope for the future. The ship hissed and outgassed, then picked up off of the ground, turning slowly then crawling up into drizzly sky and onward to the star-pricked space beyond. Bound for new things unknown. Leaving the old things behind.

* * *

Sabé and Obi-Wan will make it to Tatooine safely, landing in a dusty, derelict settlement called Mos Eisley. This is where they'll rent lodging and lay as low as possible as they look for a place to call home. It needs to be remote but not too remote, it needs to be something they can fortify. It needs enough room for a family of four. It needs to be humble, something that won't attract unwanted attention.

They'll find their homestead a few weeks later—it's an old, abandoned moisture farm on a hundred acres. The place is riddled with problems: the vaporators are all broken, the house, once certainly beautiful, is in disrepair: parts of the roof are missing, some walls are crumbled in. One of the sunken courtyards that stands in front of the house is half-collapsed and filled with sand. But the place has good bones. And they buy it.

Slowly, they'll repair and rebuild. Modify the house to their liking. Build desert-appropriate greenhouses where things will take root and grow. They'll obtain two eopies for milk and transportation, and a small flock of egg-laying cawhens. They'll fix the vaporators, install tech and personal touches. It's a good project to have, and with every new completed task, the place feels more and more like home. _Their_ home.

Obi-Wan will watch as Sabé's pregnancy blossoms, growing more and more endeared to her all the time. He'll watch her working hard on the house, tending to the animals, creating her greenhouses and never complaining once as she balances a sleeping, ruddy-cheeked Luke bound across her back with her constantly enlarging belly. Obi-Wan has never seen someone so beautiful, so capable, so strong. He'll fall in love with her all over again.

Slow to start, his relationship with Qui-Gon's Force apparition will grow. While Obi-Wan had feared his old Master's judgment and ridicule, all he finds is strength and the beginnings of healing there. He's able to forgive himself a little more every day, and begin to make peace with the past.

When Luke is around eight months, he'll say his first word while grinning with two newly-cut teeth at Obi-Wan: " _Da-da_!" And that's the moment Obi-Wan will melt completely and stop seeing Luke as a child he's caring for and begin to see him as a son. Replacing the feelings of guilt and shame, an ever-building fortress of love is stored up in his heart. He would die for this child. He will live for him, too.

At precisely nine months, Sabé gives birth in the middle of the night—labor is fast, the birth is blessedly without issues. Obi-Wan delivers the infant—and he's the first one to hold his dark-haired baby girl and look her in the face. It's a moment that changes him forever, growing his heart to a size he never knew it could be. Because while Luke has become theirs, he's a reminder of the past. Their daughter is theirs in an entirely different way: woven from their very genes and borne of a love that was conceived almost fifteen years ago in this very place. She is an unspoken hope for the future. She is the embodiment of relentless hope.

This and more is the story of how Obi-Wan and Sabé learn that Tatooine is not a desolate wasteland after all, but the foundation of a life well lived together. And for the first decade spent in the sands of Tatooine, the little family of four is irreversibly happy, thriving in their own way, living a full and peaceful life at the edge of the Jundland Wastes.

But after that decade comes the dark times.

After that decade comes Vader's plunderous grasp.


	41. Epilogue I: Twin Suns

For years, the family of four shows up to the dusty streets of Mos Eisley once a month to get supplies. An interesting, mysterious little group, they always draw stares. Not because they _look_ some specific kind of way. No, they look just about the same as most of the other Tatooine riffraff. It's something else. Some sort of energy radiates off of them. Something about them is enigmatic. _Different_.

There's the patriarch of the group, a man in his forties with long gingerbrown hair streaked in silver. He always wears it tied back or in a bun. He's most often dressed in sand-colored garments that are similar to what Jedi used to wear. The way he carries himself is steady, graceful, gentle, and humble. Nothing about him screams forbidding or dangerous, but there have been a few encounters throughout the years that prove otherwise. Whatever fool is brainless enough to try to bother him or his family is always put into their place by his quarterstaff. There are rumors that someone matching his description fought off an entire Tusken raid a few years ago with a lightsaber, but that's too outlandish for most Mos Eisley folks to believe.

The woman always with him is strikingly beautiful and she has a certain hawkish look to her… like nothing gets past her. Like she misses nothing. She usually dresses in the same color as the man in clothing designed for utility, not beauty, but despite how plain and rough her outfits are, something about her is still somehow remarkably regal. Her long dark hair is always put into impressive hairstyles that only add to the elegant presence she exudes. While her demeanor is guarded and reserved in the markets, the way she and the man relate attests to a close bond. They seem to know each other's thoughts and communicate without words. She seems particularly fond of bantha, and once while petting one for sale, she's overheard saying something about 'reminds me of when we first met' to the man with her. And while she doesn't appear intimidating exactly, she's also been seen in scuffles a few times throughout the years. She always walks away. Her opponents aren't always so lucky.

The man and the woman have two children who look to be about the same age: the first is a sandy-haired son who honestly doesn't look much like either parent—he seems to be a more reserved and sensitive child compared to his sister, who is the spitting image of her mother, with dark hair and eyes to match. The girl nearly always has her hair fashioned into three little buns at the back of her head—and sometimes, her mother's hair matches too. The daughter seems confident, curious, unafraid. She never meets a stranger. She's the most outgoing and spirited of the four, always looking for ways to make her parents or brother laugh.

The two siblings are often drawn to look at the droid stalls and tech stations, ogling new technology before they clamor to look at the live animal displays and beg their parents to let them have a new pet. The parents always exchange the look that most parents are so often seen expressing: deeply fond annoyance and weariness. For the most part, the little family comes and goes without much incident, but there are always exceptions to the rule: Their girl is known to enthusiastically engage in random games of kickball in the street with local children… and last time she did, all the kids _swear_ up and down that she's the one who purposefully kicked the ball straight into a passing Stormtrooper's helmet. Everyone scattered too fast to be caught, but all the kids boast about how wizard it was for weeks.

While the family of four are regulars and recognizable, townies don't know too much about them—the adults' names are Ben and Isa, according to one eavesdropping bartender, but that's about all anyone ever learns. Questions about where they live or what they do are always answered vaguely, even by the children. It's like they're all in on some big secret. They've been spotted at a few podracing events over the years, as well as the Motesta Oasis and the outpost at Anchorhead—but no one knows exactly where they go when they leave Mos Eisley and head south.

But that is, after all, why many people live on Tatooine. It's easy to disappear here.

* * *

**Seven Years After Order 66**

Sabé wakes up as always, before the dawn. The house is quiet, calm, and mostly dark, the stone floors cool under her bare feet. While the days are brutally hot here, the nights are forbiddingly cold—this house was built a few feet into the ground for cooling purposes, and the floors stay cool almost until midday. Something they're all thankful for.

After rising, dressing, then brushing her hair and tidily putting it into a braided loop, Sabé moves through the house silently, enjoying this blessed quiet while she still can. While it _is_ early, she's actually the last one up today. She vaguely remembers Obi-Wan rolling over this morning to put his arms around her as she hovered in the place between wakefulness and sleep. There had been a kiss at her temple and a murmur to sleep in, relax this morning as she sighed and settled in against his familiar, comforting chest.

Sabé passes Luke's room and peeks in, seeing the bed made neatly as expected. His room is plastered in depictions of starships and weaponry and 'the most wizard droids ever.' He loves piloting and wants to be one. He's not totally sure about becoming a Jedi. A faded rug on the floor depicts a Corellian starship, and the normal assortment of droid and tech parts are scattered across a small workspace surface. _Both_ children are endlessly fascinated with tinkering and taking things apart. They enjoy going scavenging in the wastes for crashed machinery and broken parts, seeing what they can build, seeing how things work.

Smiling to herself and shaking her head at all the times strange pieces of machinery have just _appeared_ around here, Sabé goes on to look into her daughter's room—which is a little more jam-packed and chaotic than Luke's space. The room is full of plants she's rescued from the desert and is nursing back to health, tanks of pet lizards and a tatoo-rat named Kipper, as well as pieces of things she's taking apart to rebuild into other things. Little drawings of Tatooine life through a six-year-old's eyes dot the walls: a cross-eyed bantha, Sand People with angry red eyes, famous podracers, the Motesta Oasis but with smiling rancors in the water, the Jundland Wastes, Jedi Knights with lightsabers of all colors, a Jawa with a crown of flowers on her head, a Krayt dragon with a goofy grin and a swirly tongue. She's so silly, and Sabé loves her so. There's also a new drawing, and Sabé goes over with a growing little smile to see her little artist's newest imaginings: A family portrait of the four of them. Sabé touches her fingers to the drawing briefly, her heart expanding a few sizes. It's amazing and surreal how happy life is here. Another enormous strike of gratitude resounds deep in her heart.

She moves toward the front of the home. The rough stone walls aren't bare or peeling anymore like when they first arrived here. There's an old droid motherboard hung up as art in the hall and a painting of a binary sunset hanging in the lounge they got from the Mos Eisley art market last year. The photo of Zana and the painting of Sabé's family are nestled into one of the built-in shelves Obi-Wan crafted years ago in the family room. Various other scavenged things have been turned into pieces of art or objects that function. Remembering all the hard work that has gone into making this place a home is a source of pride to Sabé… she knows all too well every inch of this house now after repairing, repainting, resurfacing, and redoing so much of it. It was a house when they found it. Now, it's their safe haven. Their home.

They've certainly faced their challenges over the years. Sandstorms lasting for weeks at a time, water shortages, theft, animals getting into their supplies, a Tusken raider attack, a landspeeder that broke down repeatedly, prying questions from the townies, an increasing Imperial presence in Mos Eisley—the list goes on. Their first few years here were the hardest. Adjusting to the extreme weather and remote location all while having two babies and balancing their own healing and trauma against it all had never been something Sabé anticipated to be easy. But it had been more difficult than she'd imagined it would be. It had been a test of strength. They had survived.

Sabé drifts into the kitchen and lounge part of the house. With high ceilings and generous size, this central hub is her favorite part of their home. This is where they live the most of their lives, or maybe that's just how she feels. A small fireplace stands in the lounge surrounded by a couch, chair, and floor cushions—a place where they read stories, play games, and rest together. There's a small Holo projector that they watch old Holoshows on sometimes. The kids love them, no matter how banal. Even old newscasts and local soap operas delight them. Obi-Wan always shakes his head, not sure why anyone is interested in watching Holos. He's a reader, through and through. A few toys scatter the area, most of them handmade by Sabé and Obi-Wan: a set of painted wooden fighters—a stuffed bantha—a handsewn pilot doll—building blocks and art supplies. Old paper books line the bottom three rows of the shelves Obi-Wan built—painstakingly obtained from antique markets and the ever interesting passing of a Jawa sandcrawler. They've read them all, several times too.

The house and everything in it are reminders of the life lived between these walls and the things they've built and accumulated over these years. It's sparse living, but somehow immeasurably rich.

Sabé moves around in the kitchen leisurely, going to the refrigeration unit. Overhead, dried herbs hang to flavor stews and sauces. She pulls out the porridge they made yesterday—it'll be breakfast today. After spooning it all into the slow-warmer unit, she gets out the bowls, cups, and utensils and places them all on the table. One, two, three, four. It still strikes her with surprise sometimes that she's a mother of two, and life partner to a Jedi she'd imagined unattainable in times past. Where public service and security used to be her entire life, now, two sweet little faces and their father are her entire life.

At first, raising Luke felt like a betrayal to Padmé. When he started calling Sabé 'Mama,' guilt and sadness were her first feeling. Time, the great healer, has allowed Sabé to slowly let that go. Obi-Wan too. Their choice to tell Luke that he was adopted provided a lot of peace—they'd decided to freely speak of it from his birth so that it was never a huge shocking surprise. Currently at age seven, Luke knows that he had original parents other than Obi-Wan and Sabé—but he doesn't seem too interested past that to know more. Not yet anyway. He knows he is loved, and that he has a mom and dad. For now that seems all he cares about.

After finishing up in the kitchen, Sabé goes down the stairs off the kitchen to the basement—this is Obi-Wan's workshop mostly, and storage. She slips on her boots that wait at the door, then exits into one of the two sunken courtyards that sprawls in front of their home. A vaporator stands centrally, and scaling the rounded walls surrounding the object, a variety of more rugged desert-dwelling plants grow. Some outdoor furniture is off to one side of the courtyard, the side that gets afternoon shade. DC-10 is watering the greenery as scheduled. "Good morning, Commander," the droid says, _still_ refusing to call Sabé anything else. Sabé stopped trying to get the droid to call her otherwise ages ago.

"Morning, DC-10." She checks on the plants briefly, then ascends the steps that hug to the rounded courtyard's steep wall. Tendrils from some plants brush against her. She can hear the sounds of her family above.

The suns are beginning to emerge, the first one just peeking over from behind the house, leaving the dim purple sky to brighten. As Sabé makes it topside, she has to admit, as usual, that the view is stunning in its own way. Tatooine had never stood in her mind as a beautiful planet, but after having been here for a long time now, she can appreciate the more wild, desolate beauty of this place. Their home is situated at the very last crawl of the Jundland Wastes, which gives way to the great Great Chott salt flat beyond. To the west, directly in front of the house, Anchorhead is visible as a little tiny cluster of darkness far in the distance beyond. To the north, about eighty kilometers away, Mos Eisley rests beyond the curving, dark Jundland passes.

Sabé's gaze moves from the expansive far off views to the sparring lesson she's come across. Using wooden, lightsaber-length staffs, Obi-Wan and Luke are sparring with wooden staffs lightly in the sand—a seven year old versus a forty-five year old renowned warrior isn't fair odds, which is why Obi-Wan is keeping his approach very watered down, but it's still challenging enough for Luke to learn from.

Sitting cross-legged and watching with interest, their daughter seems eager for her turn. When she spots Sabé, she grins big and waves. "Hi Mama!" Sabé waves back, and Luke is distracted—his sparring staff goes flying to land in some nearby sand. He gives a frustrated moan, appearing vastly disappointed in himself.

Obi-Wan smiles kindly and crouches to his level. "Patience, Luke."

"But I'll _never_ be good at this!" Luke complains dramatically.

Obi-Wan is incredibly patient and gentle. "You're right, you'll never be any good at that which you decide you cannot be good at." He pauses and lifts Luke's chin with a finger. "You're still learning. Be patient with yourself, most of all." He then pats his son warmly on the shoulder quickly kisses the top of his head, encouragement in his eyes.

Luke doesn't look totally appeased but he huffs and tries his best to accept defeat as he's been taught. "Okay Dad," he says, but there's marked attitude in the way he picks up his fallen staff and drags it sullenly over to stand at Sabé's side. Chuckling at his sulking, Sabé puts an arm around him and kisses him good morning on the head, rubbing her nose in his hair briefly to make him laugh. He melts, grinning and giggling at the affection, his hurt feelings forgotten. He's a moody and sensitive child, and their approach with him has been to support and affirm him through his negative emotions, not insist he cannot have them. Hopefully, it's enough. Time, as always, will tell.

Obi-Wan is now squared off with his daughter. Even at the tender age of six, she's quite the little warrior—there's a sparkle in her eye and a voracity for learning when it comes to learning the ways of the Jedi and the Force. She took to training readily and wholeheartedly unlike Luke, who would rather be piloting the family sandskiff around. As Sabé watches Obi-Wan and her daughter spar, it's very apparent that he has to work a little harder to keep up with her—she tends to take the offensive rather than the defensive, and while understandably unrefined, her swordfighting skills are already nothing to balk at. Sabé has sparred her many times and been earnestly defeated a few times. By a six year old! But it's not something she's anything but proud of. The Force is strong with their little girl. That's one of the reasons why Luke is constantly frustrated too—he doesn't have the same aptitude that his sister does and they all know it.

Obi-Wan teaches the children of the Force and of the Jedi in various ways—meditation, centering practices, lightsaber forms, and stories of how the Temple and Order used to be. While to them it could all be a fable or a fairytale, to Obi-Wan and Sabé, it's real. It happened. And sadness glitters in Obi-Wan's eyes when he speaks of it for too long. However, Master Yoda was right. When the time came, he wasn't filled with dread about training their two youngsters. He's healed a lot from what happened on Mustafar, and his connection with the Force is once again strong. It's been good to see him heal. He's currently writing a journal at night of his years spent in the Order—someday, he hopes it can be used in some way to carry on the tradition of the Jedi Order. In whatever new way the Force decrees it. Perhaps their children will be the pioneers of that new order. For now, they're just children. Children who can shoot, fight, and know how to survive in the desert alone if they ever need to. Children who will make lightsabers of their own in just a couple years if all goes well.

For now, with Luke at her side, Sabé is pleased and content to watch her daughter and husband spar. Yes… husband. Sometime around when their daughter was born, someone at the markets had referred to Sabé and Obi-Wan as husband and wife. Obi-Wan had smiled affectionately, glanced at Sabé tellingly, and said 'yes, my wife.' That was about the end of it—after a conversation that night about it they'd agreed that it only felt right to call each other that. They viewed each others as such, more or less. No matter what the label, they were forever bonded, more and more deeply too as the years went on. You had to be to make it under the circumstances they'd fallen into.

"Ah! I have been _defeated_!" came the boisterous and somewhat silly declaration when Obi-Wan landed a blow that sent his daughter's staff flying out of her little hand. She took defeat a little better than her brother did most days, and using the Force, called the handle back into her hand and gave the staff a deft whirl as if she were ready for another round. The girl was a prodigy, Obi-Wan and Sabé agreed on that much in their private, late night discussions without little ears around.

"Perhaps next time, my little one," Obi-Wan says with a fond chuckle and he bows to her to signal the end of the match, only to get playfully bopped on the head by his little prankster then laughed at raucously. He grins, scoops his little girl up and spins around, ruffling her hair as she screams… loving it.

Sabé encounters a thousand moments like these daily, but her heart is still ever-softened each time as she watches the man she loves tenderly raising these two children. She still remembers when they were both little enough that he carried them around, one on each hip at the same time. Somehow the years have only made him sexier to her. Tatooine has left its mark on him: the silver in his hair and beard, the lines traced in his face only growing deeper, skin that's been burned and tanned relentlessly. They've both grown skinnier living the meager Tatooine life, and Obi-Wan's body has been sculpted by all the physical labor. He appears more wild, and it inspires a raw magnetism in Sabé. She's loved him at every stage she's known him, but this by far is the best one. She once thought she wouldn't know what to do with an 'uneventful' life, but now given this one, she is truly at peace. Made whole.

Setting their daughter down, Obi-Wan summons Luke over again, who obeys quietly, appearing to be a loathe to go into battle. He and his sister must spar now. And he's not excited about it. Statistically, he will not win. As they square up and bow to each other to show respect, Obi-Wan approaches Sabé, a welcoming smile on his face as he slips an arm around her waist. "Good morning," he says, kissing her hello and studying her face affectionately.

"Good morning yourself," Sabé returns, her expression a mirror of his.

Cheeky, Obi-Wan gives her a knowing look, most definitely still dwelling on last night, when they'd gotten into the ale after the children's bedtime 'just to have a glass' then ended up tipsy and making love on the basement floor. "I've been thinking about you," he murmurs suggestively.

Laughing and reddening a little, Sabé shakes her head, just as pleased as he is. "Oh stop it." She doesn't mean it, and they both know it and grin at each other over it. It's a relief and a blessing that they still have the spark that ignited between them twenty-two years ago. Sometimes they talk about how old they feel, both in their forties now—but encounters like last night keep them young and bonded to each other, still discovering each other even after all this time.

Turning their attention to their children, they watch as the pair spar—and their poor son is just being toyed with at this point. "Luke seems so annoyed," Sabé observes sympathetically.

Obi-Wan sounds similar. "Oh, he is."

They mutually watch their daughter's work. They'd decided early on that both children should be raised to be resourceful and capable, but with the things that childhood demanded intertwined: Fun. Playfulness. Imagination. As a result, both children are mature and grounded for their ages in many ways—able to hit marks from meters away with a blaster, able to cook a dinner by themselves, able to determine what direction is north from reading the stars—but they both still fall down laughing in fits at potty humor—they both still cry and want their mama or dad when their knee is scraped.

"She's so adept," Sabé murmurs, watching how their little girl is so sure of herself and her skills. "Even at her age." As someone who used to train new security recruits, Sabé knows potential when she sees it.

Obi-Wan agrees, and his pride and love is evident. "She'll go onto do great things Sabé. I feel it in my bones."

Sabé nods, wistful. "I feel it too." _Just stay young forever though_ , she thinks. That's her baby. They both are.

Luke gets fed up and yells suddenly, slashing hard with his wooden staff… breaking it when he accidentally hits it against a rock in the ground in his uncontrolled outburst. He gives a frustrated sound and his shoulders slump, then he flails himself onto the ground to sit, pouting. "I broke it!" he laments. He gets very upset when he feels as though he's done something wrong.

His sister knows that. And while they are like most siblings, feuding and fighting easily, today she chooses a higher path. "It's okay, Luke, it's happened to me too," she says caringly. Luke considers her words… then lets her help him up with a hand.

Pride blossoms in Sabé's chest. They are both so young and already inspiring to her. Obi-Wan has gone over to them. "Not to worry, a broken tool is a chance to learn," he says, picking up and handing Luke the two broken pieces kindly. "A Jedi's strength is in his resourcefulness."

"Dadd- _y_!" An immediate correction comes from his daughter, who puts her hands on her hips expectantly. " _His_ resourcefulness?!"

Obi-Wan realizes his gaffe and grins. "Or _hers_!" he corrects, then shoots a look at Sabé, who smirks briefly.

Their daughter grins, toothy and dimpled. "That's better," she says, pleased with the correction. She's like a little ray of sunshine. So bright. So caring. So uninhibited. Whereas Luke is more timid. More uncertain. More prone to whine or complain or give up immediately in areas where he doesn't feel confident. There's a certain tenacity to their daughter. She doesn't give up easily or get discouraged when she comes up against problems. Sometimes, Sabé wished she had more of that herself.

"Come on, let's see about repairing it, shall we?" Obi-Wan asks, then looks over at Sabé. "Ten minutes, my love." She nods agreeably. Father and son cross over the small gangway dividing the two sunken courtyards in front of the house, heading for the rolling door to their little repair shop area.

"Come on, sprout, let's go finish getting breakfast ready," Sabé calls.

Already racing past, her daughter leaves her in a puff of kicked-up sand. "Okay Mama, race you!"

Sabé sighs. Her joints ache. "Mama's too old for all this." But she runs after anyway.

The two of them finish warming the porridge and serve it into bowls neatly, one by one. As little hands hold the next bowl up to Sabé's ladle, a sudden serious look comes over the face so like Sabé's own. "Mama, I never wanna grow up," she says. "I just wanna be a kid forever."

She goes on serious tangents sometimes like this out of nowhere. "Why's that, my flower?" Sabé asks.

"Well, if I always stay little, we can just live here forever and ever!" Comes the reply, like it's the greatest idea that could ever be dreamt up. "And never have to live apart!"

Sabé finishes spooning the porridge in and sets the bowl aside, kneeling down to face her little girl. "You never have to worry about being apart, sweet girl," she promises. This is a subject that comes up a lot—her fears of being alone or being sent away. Sabé has no idea where these anxieties come from. She even dreams about it sometimes and comes sniffing into Sabé and Obi-Wan's bedroom in the middle of the night, crawling up between them and hugging one of them around the neck. Sabé tenderly cups her daughter's face in both hands, studying the warm brown eyes that look back at her so trustingly. "I love you forever and ever. Mama isn't going to leave you." They smile at each other and share a little snuggling hug. Sabé pushes away the little whispers of anxiety she always gets when her daughter talks about these fears. _They're just a child's fears. It's not rooted in anything real._

Obi-Wan and Luke come in then and Luke seems to be in a totally different mood. "I'm… _starving!_ " he announces theatrically, inciting laughter from his sister as he mimes a hollow stomach."I could eat a whole shipload of rancors!"

"Well I don't have rancors, but I have porridge," Sabé says mildly, to which Luke roars like a beast and makes claw-hands as he lunges to the table. His sister mimics him, and Sabé sighs in half amusement, leaning against the kitchen counter to look at Obi-Wan across the room. He's smiling at her contentedly. She knows what he's thinking. This is a good life. A chaotic, animated, never dull, hard, _good_ life. And she agrees.

They'll all sit down for breakfast together and discuss the day ahead and then get to it. Obi-Wan and Luke go hunting off at the Mesa Ridge area just south of the homestead while Sabé and her little helper tend to the greenhouses where herbs, lettuces, vegetables and fruits are plentiful. Sabé is taken back to when _she_ was a little girl, helping her parents on the family farm. Now _her_ little girl works beside her, demonstrating an affinity for plants too, learning that all living things need tending to and care. After the greenhouses they'll go look after the eopies and the cawhens which takes the better part of the morning. After, it's time to do education units—Luke will do his later. DC-10 putters around, cleaning things and chattering about 'the old days on Naboo' while Sabé puts stew on to cook and makes flatbread. After awhile, she'll glance Obi-Wan and Luke returning with a boar. The two of them have a very special bond, and Sabé can only imagine they'll grow closer as the years go by.

As afternoon wanes on, the children finish their education units at different times, then reunite to do their chores together—they do them well, getting distracted by antics only a couple times. Later the four of them will take the skiff up to the Jundland Wastes for target practice with blasters. Luke excels in this, and takes his turn piloting the skiff back—no doubt the highlight of his day. After returning home, they'll all divide and conquer, checking the vaporators and harvesting water, feeding the eopies again, and gathering eggs from the cawhens. Obi-Wan and Sabé spar around sunset when the light is softer and temperatures less unforgiving. It's important to keep in shape and on their toes, so they spar regularly. Their children love to watch. They always root for their mother, _always_ , and celebrate on the very rare occasion when she bests their father. It's an earned victory, to say the least.

Dinnertime comes and everyone shares stew and flatbread. Afterward is cleanup, showers, bedtime… a routine that feels like an old friend by now. Most days are similar. They tend to each other, their little farm, and enjoy the more simple things in life.

As the moons rise in the clear night sky, Sabé finds Obi-Wan outside of their home, sitting on an old, half-buried podracing engine that they never bothered digging out and moving. _"It adds character,"_ Sabé had said years ago, loathe to do yet another project.

" _It's also a good place to sit,"_ Obi-Wan had replied, similarly not caring to move the blasted thing. And so it was settled. The engine remained.

He is sitting on it now. "Hello there," Sabé greets, seeing that he's done his nightly meditation and is ready for company. He moves over to make room for her, and she hops up with him, sharing a brief little smile then joining him in looking out over the quiet tranquility of another Tatooine night. It's cool right now, the best time of day to be outside before the chill falls. Settling into Obi-Wan's side as he pulls her close with one arm, she searches the sky above. Stars are beginning to shine in the still-purplish sky. For a long moment, they remain quiet. It's peaceful just being together. Reminiscing, reflecting, and feeling grateful again, Sabé smiled softly to herself. "Well, it's not the lake house but it's beautiful in its own way, isn't it?" she asks.

She feels his voice against her. "Indeed it is."

A moment of restful quiet passes. "What word from Qui-Gon today?" Sabé asks.

Obi-Wan shakes his head, wistful and far off. "Nothing really. Just a feeling, more than words this time."

Sabé straightens up so that she can study him. "What are you thinking about?" she asks softly, fascinated.

He smiles to himself a little more, then looks into her eyes directly. "You." He touches the side of her face, running his fingers through her hair affectionately. "All those years ago, the first time we met…" he says, and she can hear the nostalgia so pronounced in his tone that it makes her nostalgic, too. Her hand comes up to cover his, their eyes still holding. "This has always been our final destination," he says reverently. "This. You. Me. _Us_. All four of us." He's terribly romantic but doesn't even seem to know he is. Sabé had always thought it was interesting how Obi-Wan was such a naturally affectionate person—she'd never really realized it of course until certain lines had been crossed, but he is. There's not a day that goes by he doesn't touch her softly and lovingly at any given chance, stealing hugs and kisses and giving offerings of affection whenever the moment strikes. "Grow old with me," he whispers suddenly, letting his hand drop to caress her face.

"Old _er_ , you mean," Sabé jokes, so thankful he's never tired of her or seemed to mind the effects aging has left: wrinkling and loosening skin, sun spots, silver hairs threading through brown. Getting older is strange and sometimes leaves her feeling insecure.

"Whatever you say, Milady," Obi-Wan returns playfully, and Sabé wonders if he wants to roleplay again—him the padawan, her the decoy queen… they've had adventures of _all_ kinds here on Tatooine the past seven years.

Sabé leans closer to him. "I say kiss me," she whispers against his lips, and he very readily does. The desert has done things to them… made them wilder, made them less restrained and more inhibited. Such as this kiss between them now, in which Obi-Wan hauls her onto himself so that she's sitting on his lap, a leg on either side of his. He pulls her close brazenly, letting her feel what she still does to him so quickly. They drink from the fountain of passion easily, an old song and dance they know by heart but still love to replay again and again.

Obi-Wan breaks the kiss suddenly, and his gaze is raptured by her. "A day doesn't go by that I don't recognize how lucky I am," he says, as if she needed to know that _right now_ and _immediately_ too.

"Luck!" Sabé laughs, soft because of how deep his words touch her. She puts on false suspicion: "What have you done with Obi-Wan Kenobi?"

With a crooked grin on his face, he shakes his head. "I'm Ben now, a man half driven mad by the desert heat," he says, then becomes more serious, his eyes intent on hers. "Or maybe half driven mad by my beautiful wife." Then he's kissing her again, in such a way that she can't _stand_ all the clothes standing between their bodies. She hops off his lap and yanks him commandingly to stand by the belt he's wearing. From the look in his eyes, he likes being manhandled like that very much.

"Come on," she whispers huskily, pulling him along with her as she walks backwards. "Your wife wants her husband."

And such another day spent in the desolation of Tatooine comes to an end…

But desolation is nowhere to be found.

Not yet.

* * *

The years go on for Mos Eisley as they always do… the same cycle of drought, famine, dust, and disparity leave the city as bleak as ever. The Imperial presence grows larger over time, and perhaps to evade the troopers, the family of four start to come during the busier times of day instead of the slower times. Interesting situations keep surrounding their little group. Once, a red-and-black tattooed man with yellow eyes and pointed teeth came into town looking for a man who matched Ben's description. He went out toward the wastes and was never seen again. He's not the only one who's come looking for people matching Ben and Isa's descriptions. And probably won't be the last.

Sometime around the age of ten, the little girl disappears and the family never comes into town as a full unit ever again. It's just one of the parents alone, or one of the parents and their boy. People speculate that the little girl got lost in the desert or was killed by a predator. But no one ever finds out for sure.

When her brother is in his mid-teens, he gets a small part-time job in Anchorhead's Tosche Station. His name becomes known as Luke Dakarr, but he refuses to talk about what happened to his sister. When he's perhaps nineteen or so, he and his father both disappear too… never to be seen again in Mos Eisley after that.

The mother was thought to be gone as well because she isn't seen for ten years after the two men disappeared.

But then one day she just reappears out of nowhere—thinner, grayer—but it's her. She's seen in Mos Eisley from then on like one might see a specter: turning up from time to time on a lone eopie, never staying long, floating from market tent to market tent quietly, furtively. People spread rumors that she killed her family and that's why they all disappeared, and others argue that her husband and son left her. No one ever finds out the truth, but at some point after her reappearance she begins to work as a bartender at the Anchorhead Cantina part time. The years turn her silver-haired and leather-skinned, but people say she's still sharp as a knife and isn't one to cross. So much so that some folks speculate that she used to be a bounty hunter or an assassin. There are rumors that she works for the Rebellion too, but they'll say that about _anyone_ these days.

Why the woman stays on the planet is anyone's guess.

It's like she's waiting for someone to come back.

But who would be coming back?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a reason their daughter's name is not mentioned - you'll discover who she is and what happened very soon though, don't worry ;) I'm presenting this like a mystery with clues, to see if readers can discover her identity!
> 
> Dakarr, their cover last name, is taken from where The Group had their first meeting: Dakarr's Tavern on Coruscant. Luke Skywalker still goes by Luke Skywalker in this AU fyi—more answers and info there soon.
> 
> In the next part, we will jump ahead in time a lot to the era of the Sequel trilogy - The Force Awakens, in fact. But I've changed some details of the films, and the next two movies wouldn't actually end up existing at all, the changes are so big. So just keep that in mind when I post the next part :)


	42. Epilogue II: No One's Daughter

**53 Years After Order 66  
** **The Unknown Regions**

* * *

An archipelago of emerald sweeps over the deep crystalline ocean. Ahch-To is a planet wild and untouched by humanity, its many mountainous islands bearing witness to a place left by itself for millions of years. The Millenium Falcon cuts across the surface of the white-capped ocean, churning up spray as it comes in close to one of the rocky green islands for a landing.

As soon as the metal feet of the old Corellian freighter settle onto solid ground, the ramp releases and a small figure with a quarterstaff steps off the newly landed vessel, pausing at the foot of the steep gray and green mountain that makes up this particular island. She's a little breathless at the stunning scenery… it's all so alien to eyes acclimated to the desolation of Jakku.

The newcomer hesitates, a glimmer of uncertainty casting itself over her now that she's finally here. Refusing to hear her own doubts, she steels herself and sets her jaw. The weight of Luke Skywalker's lightsaber in the canvas bag she carries spurs her onward. She begins her climb.

This is Rey.

Rey No One, because as long as she can remember, it's just been her and the wastelands of Jakku, scavenging and surviving alone, repeating the days over and over again into an infinity of tedious and desolate life. But today, Rey No One is on a mission for the Resistance. Today, Rey No One is forging a new life for herself.

As she continues up steep stone paths that wind along a craggy green pass, Rey marvels at all the sights that are new to her: The crashing ocean below, moss covered rocks that drip, tender young plants unfurling from cracks in the ground, stocky little birds that peer at her with huge eyes before fluttering away with little shrieks… she smiles a little, momentarily given to awed admiration and reverence.

The air on this planet is different than anything she's ever experienced—it smells _alive_ here and she inhales deeply, relishing the feeling. Damp, salty breeze leaves her exhilarated as her nerves continue to build. She can feel something… a small prick of recognition or knowing. That's what she's following upward.

A few days ago, everything changed out of the blue when BB-8 and Finn appeared, bringing trouble with them. Rey is still dazed by everything that's happened since.

Part of her, the scared little girl part, wants to go back to Jakku. It's not a place she loves—she actually quite hates it—but it _is_ the place with which she's familiar. And it's the place she's waited almost ten _years_ for a family who _still_ hasn't come back. Rey's heart sinks as she ponders on it all. Maybe Maz Kanata was right… maybe no one is ever coming back for her.

It's a recurring thought she's struggled against over the years. Hope has always won out, no matter how small. She's always chosen to believe she was once loved and wanted, and that someone would come back for her. But today in this new place on a new path, she has to consider the nagging doubt. Maybe she really _is_ no one's daughter. Maybe it really is just her. Rey No One.

She shoves the upsetting thought away and continues to climb. Her breaths become shorter as her leg muscles work hard to propel her up more and more stacked stone stairs. The dropoffs become steep and dangerous, promising a very long tumble if she takes a bad step. Her heart is beating faster and faster. She can _feel_ it now… like honing in on a beacon. He's close. He's here.

Luke Skywalker.

The man that she spent all that time thinking a myth is real, and so is his story: the boy raised in secret by Darth Vader's arch nemesis, who then went on to defeat the Emperor and Vader. He started the New Jedi Order and tales of his bravery and leadership are known far and wide. That's why Rey has been sent: to bring Luke back to the Resistance so that he can rally the broken, scattered remaining Jedi against the First Order.

But there is one thing consistently bothering Rey: Why _her_?

 _I'm no one._ Why would they send _no one_ to do this?

A series of unlikely, fateful events skims through her mind, once again making her feel so unsure:

Running into Finn by chance at Niima Outpost….

Escaping in Han Solo's old ship (and learning this once they ran _into_ the famed smuggler)…

Finding Luke's lightsaber at Maz Kanata's…

Coming face to face with Kylo Ren…

Seeing Han Solo die at the hand of his Dark Side corrupted son…

And somehow being able to hold Ren off the first time she ever ignited a lightsaber.

All of that, and now she's being sent by the Resistance to bring Skywalker back. It feels too important for some scavenger from Jakku. And yet they sent her. Leia had insisted, and had never quite answered when Rey asked "why me?" The princess had only smiled enigmatically and said, "trust me."

With an inhale that expands her lungs to full capacity, Rey reaches a summit and pauses, unsure where to go. She's come across a small village of rounded stone huts. A few of the local species—short and squat gray beings dressed in faded white—glance at her then resume their businesses of cleaning, sweeping, and tending to their homes. And Rey continues onward, following her feelings.

The green here is astounding. Mesmerizing even. Somehow, the rugged beauty reminds her of something… maybe a dream she had once. She swears she's seen a place like this before, a whole planet of lush green, deep waters, and peaceful beauty… the feeling is so profound that she can almost believe this isn't the first time her eyes have seen a place like this.

Some sort of majestic white bird swoops by just then, beating wings powerfully. Rey pauses to watch, captivated. There is so much wonder and beauty to behold. She refocuses herself and moves upward and onward once more, following the feeling leading her. She begins to worry again. _What will I say to convince him to come back? He won't even come back for his sister Leia. Will he come back when he learns that Kylo Ren killed Han Solo?_ Rey shivers as a wave of sadness rolls over her. So much loss. So much darkness.

Rounding a small bend, Rey pauses, her breath punching out of her as she comes to an abrupt halt. Ahead at the topmost point of the steep incline before her, a lone figure stands with his back to her, hood up. _It's him_. She knows it before seeing him, and for a moment, she can't move. The legend himself. It's a feeling like recognition that comes over her. And she begins to drift toward him, her heart racing, skin gooseflesh.

The hero who brought the Empire to its knees. The man who trained a whole new generation of Jedi Knights. She isn't sure what to expect. What he'll look like. All she can feel is his energy, and it reminds her of something. It makes her _feel_.

When she's halfway up the hill, he begins to turn, and Rey fades to a stop, reverent and intimidated. He takes down his bone-colored hood slowly to reveal wild grayed hair, scarred skin, and a mechanical hand. He's a weathered looking white man in his fifties, and he startles her, but she's not sure why.

His expression, briefly surly, goes similarly startled after he's looked at her for a second. "Impossible…" Luke breathes, taking a few drifting steps toward her. He's peering at her as if trying to see through a mask or a disguise, even as she stares back and tries to figure him out. " _Impossible_!" he repeats in a soft, surprised tone. Then, there's sudden fear and mistrust. "Who are you?" he asks in a harder tone, appearing to bristle. For a minute, Rey thinks he might be able to attack her and she shrinks back a bit.

"…I'm Rey." He shrinks now, too, his expression odd. And not sure what else to do, Rey reaches into her bag carefully, feeling clumsy and foolish, making sure he knows she's not trying to do anything but show him what she's got. She pulls the glinting silver bar out and extends his weapon toward him with lessened confidence. He eyes the object warily and she extends it further, hopefully. "I've come to give you back what you lost." This wasn't how she imagined the exchange to go.

There's an absolutely strange look on his face, and his eyes go to the weapon, then her. He comes a little closer, and Rey realizes he's as taken aback by her as she is by him. But why? "Yes you have," he agrees slowly. He evaluates her a second longer, then carefully takes the weapon from her, eyes searching hers. "Do you know who I am?"

Well of course she does. "You're Luke Skywalker."

That seems to irritate him. "No, I mean—do you _know_ who I _am_?" he presses. There's a restrained emotion in his voice.

Rey is confused. Is this some kind of test? "I don't understand."

He draws back a bit, looking at her with an expression that's hard to read. Sad? Resigned? "I see." He looks at his gleaming lightsaber hilt, and several emotions faintly register as his eyes travel the length and fingers curl around its edges. Sadness. Fondness. Hurt. He looks at it for a long moment, then back at her. His sharpness and guard returns. "Where did you get this?" he asks carefully. "Who gave it to you?"

"Maz Kanata."

His face screws up. "How the hell did _she_ get it?" he asks, mostly to himself.

Rey feels urgency. They can have these conversations en route to D'Qar. "Master Skywalker," she says firmly, repeating the lines she's practiced in her head: "The First Order will control all the major systems within weeks. We need your help. We need the Jedi Order back. We need Luke Skywalker."

He stiffens and glances at her darkly. "Luke Skywalker is a failure." He turns and walks off a few steps, brooding. "He came to this island to die." He mumbles to himself. "But he _also_ didn't expect a ghost to appear, five years into exile, no—it's a sign, it has to be a sign." Is he talking to himself or to her? He must not be very good with people.

It doesn't matter. Rey marches over and turns him by the shoulder as she tries to get eye contact. "I'm sorry Master Skywalker, I—" he looks positively dangerous and she pulls her hand away, realizing she's not good with people, either. Embarrassed but resolute, she pushes her chin forward. "I'm here to request you come back. We _need_ you."

Luke remains guarded, his enigmatic eyes scanning over her perceptively. "Who's 'we'?"

"The Rebel Alliance. Leia." Rey pauses, her voice catching. "Ben Solo."

Luke's reaction is visceral—he looks acidic. " _Ben Solo_?" he asks darkly. "You mean Kylo Ren. Ben Solo is _gone_."

That's the thing. Rey shakes her head. "I don't think so." It's a feeling she cannot shake. The first time she looked into his eyes as he held her captive on Starkiller Base, she saw it there in the brown depths: A scared boy. A desperate soul. Someone who can be saved. She believes it fully and unwaveringly and says so. "Despite everything… I sense good in him."

Luke turns to give her full attention, the intensity in his voice frightening. "That is a dangerous path to go down, Rey…" he warns. His eyes are oceans of sorrow. "Hope will _destroy_ you."

Rey meets his gaze bravely, even though it's difficult. "I'm well aware."

He frowns. "What do you mean?"

She boldly studies his faded blue eyes a little longer. "I know lonely eyes when I see them."

Luke's reaction isn't what she expected. He clenches his jaw, appears to squash down emotion in favor of anger, then roughly stalks past her, his cloak whipping with a snap in the wind. "The time for an evening meal is now," he barks. "Join me." It's not a suggestion. It's a command. Rey considers, then trots after the quickly stalking Jedi Master. At least he didn't send her away. Maybe he'll hear her out yet. Maybe she really can get him to come with her.

He sets a fast pace, somehow having a much easier time than Rey does on the rocky ground as they pick their way back to the village. Luke leads her into a small hut that he must reside in—it has a small bare cot, a table with old tomes and writing utensils. Not much else. He builds a fire in the center of the space and heats some sort of stew in a small, dinged up pot. He throws constant glances at her the whole time after barking at her to "sit!"

Rey lets him cook and decides to wait to press further. She tries to learn about him by looking at what he keeps in his home, but it's so barren. So bleak. She doesn't glean much except what she can sense from him: he's upset. Jaded. Wary. And something else.

They sit cross-legged opposite of each other once the stew is ready, and eat from a small, low table he pulls out from under his more regular sized one. The first bite and Rey is quickly informed by her tastebuds that she will not enjoy this meal. It's bland and fishy and pungent all at once. But it's sustenance, and she makes no complaint. "How is it?" Luke asks, then tries his and makes a disgusted face, letting his self-disappointment be known. "Ugh. It's terrible."

Rey is already shoveling in another spoonful and talks through the food. "I don't mind. I'll eat anything."

Luke eyes her, seeming to take a different meaning from her words. "Yes, yes you will won't you." There's something in his eyes that makes her stop.

Rey pauses and sets her bowl down and wipes at her mouth with the back of a sleeve. "I'm sorry Master Skywalker, is something wrong?" she asks, her senses clear and strong, telling her all about his very loud feelings. "I sense… pain. Confusion."

Luke eyes her cautiously. "I could say the same of you," he says, then sets his bowl aside too, considering and studying her for a long few seconds. "Do you know where Kylo Ren came from? Has anyone told you?" he asks. Rey faintly shakes her head no. All she knows is that he was once Han and Leia's son. "He was my student," Luke reveals weightily. "Him and his sister both."

Rey's eyebrows go up on both new pieces of information. "Sister?" she repeats. "What sister?"

It's Luke's turn to look confused. "No one told you about her?"

Mildly embarrassed, Rey supposes maybe she should be honest. "I'm new." To the Resistance. To life off of Jakku. To talking to people at length. To everything.

Luke contemplates a moment, then begins to explain what she doesn't know about. "Jaina Solo. Han and Leia's first-born." His voice is heavy and sad, telling Rey of a world of pain. "She and Ben fell to the darkness together," he remembers, his eyes seeing faraway things that anguish him. "My wife was there when it happened. They killed her when she tried to stop them. And then they brought my Jedi Temple to the ground and scattered the Order like ashes in the wind." He's looking down with slumped shoulders that have certainly carried the weight of the galaxy on them. Slowly, his eyes rise to meet hers. "The Dark Side is very powerful, Rey," he says, and his voice carries a power and truth that makes her feel cold. "Taking what was once beautiful and good and twisting it into a nightmare."

Rey is unsettled and empathetic. His feelings radiate off of him, making it hard to feel her own feelings. "I'm so sorry," she says earnestly, processing what he's told her. "I didn't know about Jaina. And I didn't know you were married, either."

Luke again seems to be seeing ghosts of the past. "Mara," he says, the single word filled with a love and longing that makes Rey feel the loss, too. "I couldn't protect her, and I couldn't protect my niece and nephew either. The things they've done since, the lives and blood on their hands… I've never forgiven myself. So before I could be responsible for more harm, I came here." Luke seems defeated and bereft. And Rey is beginning to understand.

When he says nothing else, Rey cautiously prompts him. "Where is Jaina Solo now?"

Luke is jaded and reluctant to discuss it. "She leads the Knights of Ren. She calls herself The Sword." Sickened, he looks down again. "She was never as powerful as her brother. And it's only a matter of time before she attempts to become _more_ powerful. The resentment there is strong. _Dangerous_." He sighs, conquered by grief. "My bloodline is cursed. I'm glad I never had children." He looks so sad. "I really should have trusted my feelings," Luke continues, blank and numb now. "I was always unsure about being a Jedi. I went back and forth over the years on if it was my path or not." He gives a rueful shake of the head. "I understand my father's fears more than ever now."

Rey listens, more and more caught up in this mystery. "Your father, Anakin Skywalker? Darth Vader?"

Luke's eyes dart up. "Anakin Skywalker was my father, yes," he says, "but Obi-Wan Kenobi adopted and raised me." Affection steeps his tone. "That man was my true father, in every last way." The way he says that—the look in his eyes… Rey pines for such a father, and hangs onto every word. "He was afraid to teach me and my sister, he was very honest about his reservations when I was older." Luke grows reluctant once more. "Now I see why. What a terrible responsibility to have on your shoulders."

Trying to piece together timelines and understand more, Rey circles back. "You and your sister—so Obi-Wan taught you _and_ Leia?"

This question causes Luke a very long pause, in which he will not meet her eyes. "No… I had another sister." The air seems to grow more still. "Obi-Wan's daughter." His voice lowers and weakens. His eyes meet hers, and he looks so pained he might be near tears. "She was lost."

Rey feels gripped. She's never heard this part of the story. " _Lost_?" she repeats, mesmerized in some terrible way.

Luke's eyes hold hers, a message in them she cannot decipher. "Lost." He grows sadder and distant. "Her mother never stopped believing she'd come back someday." Weary, longsuffering love softens his tenseness as his eyes see some far away face. "Sabé. My mother, too."

Something about this conversation scares Rey. Makes the hair on her arms stand up, makes her feelings and senses reel. And so she shakes her head, trying to shake the feeling away. She tries to refocus on bringing Luke back with her. "Listen, Ben Solo may have turned, and his sister too—I don't know about her, but Ben can come back. I've seen it. _Felt_ it."

Luke contemplates her mildly. "Seen it how? Is the Force with you, Rey?" He almost seems to be challenging her.

She looses steam. "I… I'm not sure." And she isn't. As long as she can recall, she's been able to tell things about people. Been able to sense things coming. Been able to figure things out intuitively. Is that the Force?

Luke is trying to glean something from meeting her gaze. "You really think you can do something about all this, don't you?" he asks, then sits back, seeming to be mildly fascinated. "Well, maybe you can. But if you're looking for a teacher, it's not me. And I don't know what good it would do for me to go back to the Rebellion. What can one broken man with a lasersword do for this galaxy? I'm not a hero. I'm just Luke. A failed old bastard living on an island, waiting to rot away." He becomes petulant almost. "Let the worms eat me, that's the only use I'll ever be to anyone ever again." Something about his woe-is-me statement seems overly dramatic and Rey tries not quash an incredulous smiling laugh. While she manages not to laugh, Luke still sees her expression. " _What_?" he snaps.

It _is_ somehow almost funny to her that he'd choose dramatics to cover up his true feelings. "You don't feel that way," she replies, wondering why he's trying to play such an act—she can feel the truth coming off him just like she can feel the cool, damp stone underneath her. "You _want_ to help," she insists, and he looks caught. "More than anything. You know how important you are… you're just afraid to fail again." For a moment, she forgets she's talking to a near stranger. For a moment, she knows Luke inside and out.

He's stricken by her assessment. He stands up, appearing shaken. "Look, if it's a Jedi you need, there are others. Go ask _them_ for help."

Rey stands too. "It's you we need," she insists vehemently. "Leia said the New Jedi Order fell apart when you left. Said the Resistance has limped ever since then."

Luke resists. "That's not my concern."

"Why not?" Rey asks, becoming a little angry at his dismissiveness. This wasn't the Luke Skywalker she's heard about.

Luke matches her rising ire. "It just isn't, okay?!" He whirls and exits his hut, leaving Rey to dash after him.

"They need their leader back!" she all but shouts, and Luke whirls.

"What kind of leader am I?" he retorts, throwing an arm out. "Look at what happened under my leadership!" He trembles, taking a moment. "I destroyed _everything_."

Rey doesn't believe that and shakes her head no, approaching him carefully. Maybe he's made mistakes. Maybe he's done things he wishes he could redo. But a total failure? She can't agree. "You don't have enough power to singlehandedly destroy everything. No one does." Luke is placated but brooding. Rey searches his eyes. Again, she feels a familiarity there. Like she's looked into them before. "Do you _really_ think Ben is gone forever?" she asks quietly, because she doesn't believe that he truly does.

And sure enough, his eyes show the flickers of doubt. Of consideration. For a long moment, their gazes remain locked. "Until today, I thought people who were lost _stayed_ lost," Luke finally replies, challenging her, calling out her. It rocks her to her core.

Rey decides to call his bluff, and does so while shaking. "You recognized me when you first saw me today, didn't you?" she asks, frightened to know the answer and watching his reaction to her question closely. " _Didn't you_?" He doesn't reply, but he doesn't have to. Rey can see that she's right and it scares her anew, making her feel very strange indeed. "Why would Luke Skywalker recognize me?" she whispers.

Luke is gruff, and brushes past her like he's going to back into his hut. "It's a very long story."

"Well I have time!" she points out a little emotionally, stopping him with her words. If he knows who she is… where she came from… she _needs_ to know.

Instead of telling her anything, he turns slowly and asks a soft, measured question. "How old are you Rey?"

She's fractionally embarrassed. "Not exactly sure. Around twenty, I think."

Luke's eyes burn into hers, seeking answers of his own. "And where are you from?"

She isn't sure where he's going with this. "Jakku."

" _Jakku?_ " he repeats, seemingly appalled. "How the hell did you end up _there_?"

She doesn't know. Her first clear memory is of watching a ship leave, and being _sure_ her family was on it. "My family left me there," she whispers. It's embarrassing. It's devaluing. It's her greatest humiliation. What did she do to earn such a fate?

Luke is pained on her behalf. " _Left_ you?" he repeats wretchedly, like he can't believe she would say such a thing. "How do you mean?"

Rey feels herself clamming up and becoming emotional. "I don't see how this is important, Master Skywalker," she says stiffly, starting to try and come up with a way to dodge this conversation.

He touches the side of her arm, drawing her gaze. "Trust me, it's very important." Something about the gentle way he says that and the touch of his hand whispers at her to tell him. She contemplates him a moment longer, surprised when her feelings tell her its safe.

It might be safe, but it's not easy. "I don't actually remember," she admits uncomfortably. "It's all… it's all very foggy." She has a hard time remembering things—she remembers _nothing_ outside of vague, floating specters of memory before her first clear memory of seeing that ship fly away. "They say I was found outside of the Star Destroyer wreckage alone about ten years ago," Rey recalls, grief squeezing her throat into a chokehold. "I was suffering blindness and disorientation, and crying for… for my mother." She doesn't even remember her mother, but even mentioning the unknown woman sends a pang of soul-deep longing through Rey's heart. How can she want someone she doesn't even remember?

"So you _do_ remember your parents," Luke supposes keenly.

Rey shakes her head once, eyes going off into the distance as she thinks. "Glimpses, maybe. I remember how they felt, more than how they looked…" Sometimes she has dreams where she can almost see their faces, almost remember the sound of their voices. Little snatches of memory. Sand, stone, brown hair, someone's smile, the sound of a man's laugh. Her father's? The feeling of safety. Of being loved. Of being held close. When she tries to press in to those memories, nothing comes of it. "It's like there's a wall there," she murmurs in a wavering voice. "And whenever I try to think back and remember… I just can't." Despite her best attempts, emotion causes her eyes to well, and a single tear to spill onto her cheek. "Why wouldn't they come back for me?" she asks a Jedi Master she doesn't know, as if he can explain it to her and put the fractured pieces back together for her.

"Maybe they didn't know where to look," Luke says, deeply empathetic. Is he teary eyed, too? "Maybe they didn't know you were even still alive." His words confuse her more. He steps a little closer, demanding her gaze. His faded eyes are still full of life and power, of knowing. "When you dig deep—when you really _feel_ —who does your inner voice tell you that you truly are?" he asks.

Rey doesn't understand, and feels a degree of humiliation over this conversation. Is he playing with her? "No one."

Luke refuses to accept her answer. "Beyond that. Rey." He looks unflinchingly, widely into her eyes. "Who does the _Force_ tell you that you are?"

Shaking her head, throat closing up as tears threaten to come more powerfully, she doesn't know what to say. There has never been an answer. Ever. "I don't know."

Luke stands back and eyes her with deep thought. Now that he's broken her down to sadness and insecurity, he seems resigned. Like he's preparing himself for something big. "I will go back to the Resistance with you on one condition," he announces, providing a surge of sudden elation to a low spirit.

She tempers her own surge of excitement and triumph. "What's the condition?" she asks, knowing better than to blindly agree.

Luke is somber. His feelings radiating off of him are strange. "You must first go with me to Tatooine."

Rey is immediately skeptical, physically taken aback. " _Tatooine_?" she repeats. "Why?"

Luke is somber. Meaningful. "I don't think I can help you remember who you are…" he says, then leaves her with chills when he speaks next: "But I know someone who can."


	43. Epilogue III: The Lost Kenobi

The Falcon streaks over endless rocky passes set against pale sand. Brown eyes curiously peer through the cockpit transparisteel at a landscape not so unlike Jakku… very similar, in fact. Barren desert and treacherous mountains make up the terrain here. No homes or settlements are apparent. But then as they come over one last large ridge, the bluffs give way to sandy plains.

"There," Luke says, pointing over Rey's shoulder, and her eyes find it immediately: a small homestead is nestled up against the foot of the mountains ahead, overlooking an enormous flat region. A warm shiver tingles over Rey's body and she suddenly feels more alert. More aware. There's no doubt about it… she felt it the second they came out of hyperspace and it's only growing stronger: something here feels familiar.

It's a sensation that stirs great anxiety and hope alike.

Beside her in the copilot's seat, Chewbacca turns and gives a thoughtful, "rrurrng," as they begin their descent and landing. Rey manages a quick sidelong smile at the Wookie in response. More for his sake than hers. She's distracted: Why did Luke insist on coming here? What answers can be in such a place? He hasn't given her more information on their journey here. Only more questions.

But answers or not, she can already feel it building: She is going to find out things today. She _knows_ it. And that's a thought that can bring her to the verge of tears if she stays with it for too long.

The ship touches down, stirring up small swirls of sand under its feet in the process. As the ship settles and outgasses, Rey curiously looks at the home that's a few hundred yards off—smoke is curling up from the chimney and an eopie grazes leisurely off to the side of the place. The animal raises his head to contemplate the starship briefly before deciding he's not interested. And are those greenhouses set up on the sandy slope behind the home? Somehow this place is welcoming, despite the inhospitable climate. Rey _feels_ again, emotions that are powerful and come from somewhere she doesn't understand. Something here is sacred… inspiring reverence.

"What is this place?" she asks softly, afraid to break the spell.

Behind her, Luke sounds fond. "Home." A spark of wonder, joy, and intimidation lights in Rey. _This is where Luke grew up and was trained by the legendary Obi-Wan Kenobi…?_ That feeling of amazement is immediately followed up by intense bewilderment and intimidation. Luke pats her on the shoulder and indicates the house. "Go."

Rey turns, confused. "Alone?"

Luke smiles, his eyes crinkling ever so softly. "Trust me." He's insistent, but in the gentlest of ways. " _Go_." Something in his gaze causes her internal feelings to whisper _yes_.

Chewie gives an encouraging " _rrrnng_!"

And after a brief second more of studying the enigmatic homestead and all the feelings it inspires in her, Rey stands up, contemplates her quarterstaff… then leaves it behind with a deep, nervous breath in. Her staff always goes everywhere with her, but… something tells her she doesn't need it here. This is a place to go into gently. She makes her way to the ship exit, unarmed.

The ramp lets down and the scorching brightness of sun on endless hot sand causes her to squint. Rey is immediately hit by a wave of oppressive heat so much like Jakku as she steps foot onto Tatooine. Even in the very late afternoon, the suns burn her skin as she squintingly shades her eyes with a hand and starts forward. Her nerves are singing. Underneath her boots, the give of loose, dry sand is familiar, and so is the heat that makes her lungs feel tight.

The feeling of anticipation grows. If this is Luke's childhood home, that must mean his adoptive mother—Sabé—is here. _Is she the one Luke thinks can help me remember? Remember_ what _though? What does Luke know about who I am? What would his mother know about me?_ The mounting questions make Rey dizzy. She doesn't want to get her hopes up—she doesn't want to latch onto the possibilities. But it's too late for some things… she already wants Luke to be her family in some way. She just wants to _belong_.

Her heart beats faster and faster. The homestead grows closer with every step. She notices a small rock that almost looks like a grave marker, off to the right of the house. She gives it a brief glance, then continues forward. Soon enough she can see that two sunken courtyards stand in front of the house—and both are full to the brim with green plants. A surprising, beautiful sight that brings a little wave of peace over Rey. As she gets closer, she can see that someone is _in_ one of the courtyards, tending to the vertical garden crawling up the wall there. It's a woman, and she's standing with her back to Rey. She has long silver and white hair that's down and loose. She wears a dark blue robe with asymmetrical designs embroidered in gold. Her energy is calm, steady, and full of light. Rey is briefly struck to stillness and inaction, feeling reverent inexplicably. Emotional. She contemplates announcing herself, but doesn't know what to say. She thinks maybe the sound of her approach will announce her arrival, so she begins to cautiously go down the stairs, briefly admiring the plants here. The inside of the courtyard is _completely_ green, floor to ceiling, with trailing tendrils descending toward a tiled floor in the pattern of a golden sun. When Rey reaches the bottom level, the woman still hasn't turned. Rey fumbles around for what to say, regretting her choice to enter silently, but then her internal debate is ended for her.

"I had a dream last night…" the old woman says wistfully. Her voice makes Rey still—it's strong and weathered by the years, accented with the same inflection that Rey speaks with. The woman carefully sets her pruning shears aside and turns around, revealing a strong, bright elderly face that has a surprisingly emotional smile on it. "And now it's coming true." Perhaps in her mid eighties, the woman has defined features and keen eyes set in a tanned face that's been aged by lines and wrinkles—but despite her seniority, she is still clearly strong and vibrant. Her energy feels spirited and alert—she has graceful, lithe posture and a sparkle in her eye. Her expression wavers into deeply touched sentiment and her brown eyes begin to shine as they sweep over Rey foot to face as if she's never seen something so amazing. "Oh, _look at you_ ," she murmurs, eyes traveling every detail of Rey's face. She clasps her hands to herself, her eyes fond and affectionate as she gives a longsuffering sigh. The woman is Sabé. She has to be. Rey is touched. Stilled. Entranced. And of course confused. "You've come a very long way, haven't you, Rey?" Sabé asks, empathy and knowingness threaded deeply into her tone.

 _She knows my name. She's glad to see me._ Rey finds words difficult for a moment but emotions easy. "Yes," she finally manages, mystified anew. Looking at this woman, being near her… Rey struggles to understand the strange way she feels. She swears she knows Sabé, but can't remember her at all. "I'm sorry, do I…" she trails off, transfixed by Sabé's eyes looking so unwaveringly into her own. "…know you?"

Sabé contemplates for a moment, and Rey thinks she sees a brief moment of debate in the older woman's eyes. Then, instead of answering, Sabé glances around fondly, indicating her home. "Do you recognize this place?"

Taken aback by the implication, Rey is newly anxious. She looks around again briefly, trying to see something that would jog a memory. But she comes up with nothing. "Why would I recognize it?" she asks a little breathlessly.

Sabé is gentle, maybe a little sad, but her smile is reassuring. She comes a little closer and gently touches Rey shoulder. "You've been here before." Information that _floors_ Rey. She feels herself quivering mind and body alike. _When? How?_ Sabé motions for Rey to follow. "Come with me." She opens a doorway and slips inside the house.

Rey follows, but not before casting another brief look around at the plants climbing the entire circular courtyard. For a brief moment, she hears the laugh of a little girl and remembers the feeling of dirt and leaves under fingers, the smell of life in the nostrils. She touches fingers to a trailing tendril of green as she follows Sabé inside. A feeling like comfort passes into her at the touch. The energy here… it's so familiar. Why?

The basement is cool and dark, and when the door slides closed behind them, Rey's eyes adjust and she can see a workshop setup—a table with tools for all sorts of projects and storage containers neatly stacked against the walls. Rey can imagine Luke working here when he was just a boy—tinkering, discovering, and being guided by Obi-Wan. Sabé is slowly ascending the stairs up to the main part of the house. Rey follows, looking at _everything_ hungrily and anxiously, trying to see something familiar _._ But it's all new to her eyes—she thinks.

They come into a living section of the house: a kitchen with a dining table adjacent to a lounge area. Everything's tidy and clean, and the high ceilings and ample natural light leave the space bright and welcoming. The home is decorated minimally and pleasantly, full of little personal touches. Rey drifts over to the fireplace, momentarily transfixed with the unspoken energy and personality of this place. A shelf full of little things draws her attention. There, a small paper photo of a couple with two very small children grabs her gaze. This must be Obi-Wan and Sabé. They look to be in their forties maybe—and very happy, if a little sunburnt. Obi-Wan has a sassy-expressioned Luke riding on his shoulders, and beside him, Sabé and the daughter whose name Rey doesn't know sits on her mother's hip, grinning big—missing a front tooth. _She looks sort of like me_. The family is squeezed close. Rey's fingers brush the surface of the picture ever so lightly. The entire home is full of the same feeling she sees and feels from this photo. "So much love here," she murmurs to herself, a ripple of yearning inevitably following the statement. A sudden sound makes Rey whip her head sidelong—it's gears whirring, and they announce the entrance of a very old looking copper colored protocol droid. "Oh. Hello."

"Commander, you didn't tell me we were having company!" the droid exclaims, and Sabé smiles furtively as the droid bows slightly toward Rey. "I am DC-10, at your service."

Rey smiles. She's always had a soft spot for droids. "I'm Rey."

The droid remains frozen in place, and Rey falters as the silence becomes awkward. Did the droid's board just short out? Just as she thinks that, the droid asks: "You're… who?" and looks at Sabé with a slow, noisy turn of the head.

Sabé waves a hand. "Go about your business, DC," she says kindly, and looks at Rey the same way. "Let me show you my children's rooms."

Rey watches DC-10 lumber off, distinctly getting the impression that something significant just happened. As far as Sabé's request, she doesn't know what for, but has decided to just let things unfold. She'd like nothing better than to demand all the answers _right now please_ , but forces patience. She makes her way down one of the halls that goes toward the back of the house, and takes a left when the hall divides. Sabé is close behind her, moving with a slower gait, content to watch the way Rey looks so thoroughly and curiously at everything.

Rey pauses at the first door she comes to. Luke's room—it has to be. It looks like Sabé has kept it the same way for years—it has posters of starships all over the walls and things Luke no doubt built—strange little contraptions and droids and pieces of art made out of junk. Continuing on, Rey comes to the last door, and is startled to stillness when she sees a room with walls that are covered floor to ceiling in roughly carved notches. _Thousands_ of them. Just like the inside of her old home on Jakku… but _so many more._

Gone totally silent and spooked, Rey takes a long moment to gawk. Then, drawn like a magnet, she slowly goes in, letting her fingertips touch against the little lines carved into stone. Sabé watches. "What are all of these?" Rey breathes after a moment. She is genuinely afraid. This feels too significant. But she still doesn't understand.

Sabé's eyes go over the room slowly, a certain pain resting in her expression. "One to mark every day since I lost my daughter so long ago," she says, and there's guilt, regret, and pain there. "For so many years… we thought she was dead."

Rey remembers what Luke said about his yet-unnamed sister. _Who is this mysterious sister and daughter? What does it have to do with_ me _?_ Sabé doesn't say. "What happened to her?" Rey whispers. Something about this missing daughter has something to do with her—she can't get away from that feeling.

Sabé is slow to reply, her eyes shining again and looking at the notch-covered walls for a long time. "She was lost." Her eyes then come to look into Rey's.

And it's too much. The feelings clanging around in Rey are too big to cope with. "Look, I'm sorry, but I need straight answers," she says, but not rudely. More soft and desperate. Because her eyes are beginning to brim with tears and her heart is hammering and her instincts are screaming at her. "What does all of this have to do with me?" she barely whispers.

Sabé looks at her sadly. " _Everything_ , my darling." She comes a little closer, and with a motherly smile tinged by sadness, she searches Rey's shining eyes. "I think you can sense it, can't you?"

Yes, she can, but she doesn't what _it_ is. "Who are you?" Rey asks, daring to hope. But afraid to. " _Please_."

Sabé hovers, as though holding herself back. "Who do your feelings tell you I am?" she asks, whispering too.

Rey blinks, and hot tears spill onto her cheeks. "I don't know."

Sabé is very quiet. "Did you notice you knew where the rooms were?" she asks. "I didn't show you." Rey feels her stomach begin to drop when she realizes how true that is. "You knew where to go." Yes—she had—she hadn't even asked where the children's rooms were. She'd just _gone_ there. Hanging on the moment with wide eyes and a racing pulse, Rey listens as Sabé continues: "Obi-Wan came to me in a dream the night he died," she says, coming a little closer. Cautiously. Carefully. Something seems so meaningful to her gaze. Rey is holding her breath at this point. "In the dream, he told me that our daughter was still alive. He didn't know where. But he could feel her lifeforce, somewhere out there." Rey is hanging onto every word—so much so that nothing else in the entire universe exists at this specific moment. "I spent the next ten years searching while working for the Rebellion… before I came back here to wait for her." Sabé pauses. A tear runs down her cheek, too. "You know all about waiting, don't you?" she asks.

Rey is wrapped up completely in this moment, feeling totally emotionally in sync with Sabé. Her intuition seems to understand what her mind does not. Yes. She knows all about waiting. "How long have you been waiting?" Rey asks, daring to hope against hope.

The older woman's head bows slightly. "My daughter was taken from me more than forty years ago." Her pain, to this day, is very evident.

Rey feels crushed. "Oh." She shakes her head, looks down, and scorns herself for being so stupid. The thought had been so brief and hopeful but foolhardy. "For a moment… I thought maybe your daughter was _me_ ," she admits, realizing how pathetic and illogical she is. Searching for belonging anywhere possible, wanting a family so badly she will see her missing father and mother in any kind face that looks her way.

Sabé doesn't laugh at her. Doesn't scoff. Instead she looks struck by emotion and empathy and something else too. With some deliberation, she sits down on the neatly made bed and indicates Rey does too. Rey complies, lost in a word of painful confusion. Sabé holds out a hand to her—a wrinkled, aged hand barren of rings or jewels. Just evidence of hard work and many years in the desert. "Hold my hand Rey," she says, her eyes imploring. "Remember with me."

Three words that send a shiver across Rey's entire body. Has everything in her life been leading here to this moment? There's a surge of adrenaline and fear and thrill and apprehension all at once—and slowly, deliberately, she reaches out and lets her hand slip into Sabé's. The touch of skin-to-skin sends a feeling of comfort and security through Rey, and she feels more tears in her eyes without comprehending why. Sabé closes her eyes, and with a nervous breath and big swallow, Rey does too.

Outside sounds and sensations melt away as Rey allows her focus to hone in on the place Sabé leads: deep into the recesses of memory where all of her experiences sleepily reside. In what feels like a heartbeat and also an eternity, Rey sees and feels it all: A baby girl is born in the desert to two parents who cry with joy at her arrival. A labor of love start to finish, the new life is the spark of hope that completes the little family. The years whirl by, and Rey watches a blonde boy and his dark-haired sister growing up on the quiet moisture farm, the son and daughter of parents who are wanted by the Empire. Despite the looming danger, their life is simple and good on the suns-scorched homestead: there is discovery, learning, and growth. Laughter and songs are often heard in the four walls of the home. Sabé teaches her children about weaponry and tactics and self-defense one day, then cooking and sewing and gardening the next. Obi-Wan trains the children in meditation, Jedi philosophy, then the art of lightsaber fighting and how to use the Force, he shows them how to hunt—how to plant—how to outwit a fool—how to negotiate and barter and de-escalate. He loves his children greatly, and tells them so too.

There are days spent at home completing education units and pulling old defunct droids apart. There are days spent battening down the hatches as sandstorms approach. There are trips to the Motesta Oasis for swimming and fun… and nights camping under the stars while Obi-Wan recounts the days of old, capturing everyone's attention. There's voyages to Anchorhead and Mos Eisley for supplies where all manner of beings and people pass through—the children are entranced, their parents jaded and cautious. There's sweat, hard work, and learning things the hard way. Trouble comes their way sometimes of course: a Tusken raid on the homestead, a ring of thieves looting from them, droughts, supply shortages. Constant challenge defines the family unit, but they always rally as a unit and prevail. Perhaps the most notable event is a red-and-black faced creature with a double-bladed red saber who comes seeking revenge on Obi-Wan. The entire family faces off against him, even the children. His body is buried in the desert after he is slain. Afterward, Obi-Wan tells the children of the first time he defeated the same foe. Of how life has truly come full circle. He'll smile over at Sabé gently and tell the children how strange it is, that if not for the exact enemy he just defeated again, he and their mother would never have met. He reminds them that nothing that happens is without meaning or purpose. Ever.

The flood of memories that pour over Rey suddenly give way to a steady, lingering scene that doesn't just feel like a glimpse. It's like being there. Rey feels it: A cool breeze on her face. The smell of life… plants… water… grass. She hears birds singing and trees full of mighty wind as they bend back and forth. It lifts her spirits and makes her feel at peace. She almost feels like she's not seeing someone else's memory. She almost feels like these are _her_ memories…

This is Naboo. Rey knows it without knowing how she knows. She's standing at a house on a hill, overlooking a beautiful verdant valley and lake. Not far away, she sees a much younger Sabé standing at the crest of the hill with a ten-year-old girl whose hair is styled exactly how Rey likes to wear it. Sabé has an arm around her daughter and is pointing to far distance, explaining something Rey can't hear. The two of them look happy, especially the little girl—who has never been away from Tatooine before. This is her birthright trip—her father hadn't felt entirely comfortable with the idea, but had eventually agreed anyway. _How do I know that?_ Rey wonders briefly.

And then there's the sound of a ship engine, fast descending, and it changes everything. Wind from the close-landing causes the grass to blow down flat and Rey feels panic, looking at Sabé and her daughter to see what they'll do. Sabé's face shows her clear, alarming dilemma: their ship is not close by. There's nowhere to hide. And the shadow cast over them is of Darth Vader's personal envoy ship. Its wings are folding to a point above the belly of the vessel, and there's mere seconds to take action.

Sabé drops to a kneel in front of her daughter and grips her by the upper arms urgently. "Get inside," she instructs. " _Hide_. Now!" Although she hesitates briefly, the little girl obeys, running to hide inside and watch from a window as Sabé steels herself, not even bothering to pick her blaster up—it would be useless against Vader and she knows it.

His tall, looming figure emerges from his ship like a monster in the night, striking fear into Rey as she watches the memory. He looks lifeless and devoid of humanity, like evil and nightmares made flesh. Behind him, a silent squadron of menacing stormtroopers accompany. He strides up to Sabé, who stands her ground, her expression a mask of sick fear.

"Where is Obi-Wan's child?" Vader demands. His voice is ominous and deep. Sabé says nothing, only lifts her chin fractionally in quiet, terrified defiance. Vader raises an arm and crushes his hand into a fist, and Sabé gasps and clutches at her own throat, slowly being raised up until her feet aren't on the ground anymore. "Tell me, woman," Vader compels, and Sabé airlessly wheezes and struggles.

A little girl's scream pierces the air. "Stop, _stop_!" She's raced out from hiding and throws out a hand of her own with a little yell—and she's not as strong as Vader, but she's strong enough to startle the Sith Lord and allow Sabé to drop to all fours as she gasps in deeply for air. She's not there long though: she jumps up and snatches her daughter into her arms, shaking her head no with tearful eyes.

" _Interesting_ ," Vader muses leisurely, and there's a small glint of emotion there: a greedy, excited notion. "A raw power unlike what I've ever seen before." His head moves a fraction, and even though no eyes can be seen behind his unmoving mask, his gaze has clearly moved from the girl to Sabé. "The circle will be made complete." Vader says with finality, and steps closer to the trembling mother, then motions for the troopers to act. "What was taken from me shall be taken from you."

"No!" Sabé screams, and her attempts to shrink back and escape are foiled as her daughter is ripped from her arms: " _No_!" she protests, then louder still, she shouts her daughter's name: " _Rey_!" she cries, a call that echoes across the land.

And Rey is completely and totally floored. _Why did she just call her daughter by my name?_

There's a sudden skirmish—blasterfire—Sabé tries to dodge away behind a small rock. She doesn't return fire for fear of hitting her daughter—and then she's hit in the arm by blasterfire with a yell of pain. And even as little Rey is being carried away kicking and screaming, she shoves both hands out toward Sabé with so much strength of force that Sabé is thrown over the crest of the hill—safely out of range of being shot, but given no choice but to tumble down the slope more than a hundred feet.

The lead stormtrooper hesitates once their target has disappeared and looks to Vader. "Should we go after her sir?" he asks, voice obscured by his helmet.

Vader contemplates then decisively stands a bit taller. "No. Leave her." His tone is devoid of any feeling. "Let her take her pain to Obi-Wan, where it will rot them apart." He turns with a swirl of black cape.

"Mama! _Mama_!" little Rey is screaming at the top of her lungs, being held by two troopers who are having a hard time with her valiant fight. Vader passes by and touches a hand to the girl's shoulder. She goes unconscious.

"Put her in the carbonite transport," Vader ruthlessly commands the troopers carrying her. He considers little Rey emotionlessly. "In time, perhaps the Emperor would like to put her powers to work for him." A chilling proposal.

The scene fades away.

And then seamlessly, Rey is no longer floating in Sabé's memories, but in her own: she remembers the coldness of carbonite closing in over her body. The Great Nothing. The waking. The blindness. The disorientation and memory loss. Jakku. And the belief that she had been abandoned there. She hadn't been. She'd been put into carbon freeze then forgotten and stored on the Star Destroyer _Ravager—_ which crashed onto Jakku in battle. Somehow the carbonite chamber survived the crash and its generator kept going, locking Rey into stasis for years and years until one day, the generator finally stopped working… setting Rey free into a world where she no longer remembered anything except her name and the way she liked to do her hair. Although now, Rey realizes there were cracks in the wall that she never recognized as such: Dreams of pieces of her old life. Memories still ingrained into her physical body. She hadn't forgotten everything, just been separated from it. And the separation is gone. Rey remembers _everything_.

And like a swimmer underwater, she feels herself surging upwards out of her subconscious, to break the surface in reality once more. Her eyes snap open to the real world and she's breathing raggedly, stunned by the revelation of everything she just saw, felt, and learned.

She's on Tatooine in the notch-covered bedroom. _Her_ old bedroom—and she's sitting with her mother, who looks hopeful and worried and breathless. With tears in her eyes and overwhelmed emotions bursting through her, Rey nods. "I remember," she whispers, the tears of joy and grief alike. "I remember _everything_." She reaches over even as she's being reached for, and longlost mother and daughter hug tight and close.

"I never stopped believing I'd see you again," Sabé whispers fiercely, crying tears of her own.

" _Mama_ ," Rey hiccups, the tears pouring. She's held even tighter in an embrace she's wanted and needed so long now.

A tender hand is stroking against Rey's head. "I've been waiting for your return such a long time," Sabé manages, her voice tight with pain. "I'm so, _so_ sorry."

Rey pulls back, shaking her head no vehemently. She remembers why she did it clear as day. "You couldn't have stopped them," she insists. "They would've _killed_ you."

There's a soft smile from Sabé and then a gentle touch of her hand to Rey's cheek. "My little protector."

Rey's emotions overpower her. "I knew you were out there, looking for me," she manages through a choked voice, "I knew I was never forgotten." She leans into her mother's touch. " _I knew it_. I didn't remember, but I _knew_."

Sabé smiles, eyes full of affection and emotion. "Do you know what your name means?" she asks fondly. "Relentless hope." Sabé's smile and watery eyes both grow. "You've lived up to your name, my dear girl. I'm only sorry you had to do it alone."

They are words that empower Rey to know the truth: "I've never been alone," she replies, understanding now how the constant feeling of hope wasn't just of her own creation. It was hope sprung from the reality of knowing how loved she was. How real her family was. She forgot their faces, voices, and past, but she had always believed her family was real. And so in a way, she'd always had them accompanying her along the way. "You've always been with me," Rey says, blinking as more amazed tears fall. "And so has…" she trails off, realizing that her father is gone, and has been for years. Her joy deflates. "Vader killed him, didn't he?" she asks, remembering the legend she's heard about a great lightsaber battle aboard the first Death Star.

Sabé's expression grows more bittersweet. She misses him, Rey can tell. Her heart aches. "He's no longer living in the way you and I are," Sabé concedes, but there's a sudden sparkle in her eye. Like she has a special secret. "But he's not gone, either." She doesn't elaborate yet, instead, looks at her daughter with tearful pride and joy. "Your father would be so proud of you, Rey."

It's like salve on a wound, or water in the desert. Words that brighten a soul long downcast. "Really?" she asks, but she already knows the answer. She remembers now, more and more with every second, as if her brain is coming back on, one sector at a time. Clear memories of her father's patience, kindness, and sense of humor are returning. His gentle spirit, his fierce and understated strength. His constant amusement and dry sense of humor, the way he would hide a smile behind his beard. He always had an encouraging word to share, a lesson to teach, a longsuffering smile to give. He was a superhero in Rey's mind. She remembers how much they mutually adored each other. Rey is hit by a pang of sorrow. He's gone—and the loss staggers her. _We never got to say goodbye._ Tears come for new reasons now. She remembers the last time she saw her father—it was here, just outside of the house. He'd been waving goodbye, with a smile tinged by worry.

New tears spill out as Rey more and more understands what's happened to her—how many years are lost. "How do you know what happened to me?" she asks her mother, confused about many pieces of the puzzle she's still trying to solve.

"I've been having dreams the past few nights," Sabé says gently, full of her own emotional anguishes too. "About your life. Everything that happened after Vader took you." She regards Rey with great sadness and remorse. "I've lived through more than my fair share of heartbreak, Rey. And now you have too. I just wish I could have protected you better."

More than her fair share of heartbreak: Mama lost her parents young. Raised her sister—Rey's aunt Zana—then lost her too during the wars. Then the Republic fell and _all_ was lost. The stories of Mama and Papa's life before their children… Rey remembers them all now and can smile because of it. "l'm lucky to be strong enough to survive, just how my mother taught me," she says earnestly, realizing the only reason she survived Jakku was because of how she'd been raised. Even though Rey and her mother are currently strangers to some effect, their roots as family are readily bringing them close again. But Rey mourns for what's been taken, because it's so _much_. "I just wish we hadn't lost all those years," she says, voice wavering on more tears. Thirty years or so, she's lost out on. Thirty _years._

Sabé nods, her sentiments similar. "I know."

Rey thinks how long Sabé was here waiting and it's staggering. "You've been alone a lot longer than I was."

But Mama doesn't languish in grief. She smiles bravely, exuding strength and poise. "Oh, I've never been alone," she says, then cracks a strong grin, revealing healthy teeth. "I've had DC-10 with me!" she jokes, then chuckles at Rey's growing, disbelieving smile at the wisecrack. Sabé stands and goes over to a small wardrobe set in the corner. "Before I forget," she says, fishing an object out of a drawer. She turns around, and draws out something that makes Rey stand up with a soft expression. "Something you might want to see again."

Rey drifts over in a trance, her jaw dropped open. "My lightsaber," she whispers joyfully, taking it reverently from Sabé's hands, trembling. It's exactly how she forgot it was: sleek, lightweight, made out of scavenged parts from desert wrecks. It's double-bladed, but she only activates one end of it, letting her eyes travel up the length of the buzzing, thrumming yellow energy. Rey remembers her father's words when she first switched this weapon on: at eight years old, she'd marveled at the golden blades, and Obi-Wan had gently smiled as she tested the weight of the weapon, giving a couple of careful, experimental dips and whirls. "Mastering others is strength, but mastering yourself is true power," he had told her, and she'd turned the blades off to listen and give his lesson her full attention, just as he'd taught her and Luke to both do. "This weapon is not your power, Rey," he'd told her meaningfully. "Your power is your willingness to be One with the will of the Force."

Tears prick her eyes again as she thinks over all the lessons he taught her and Luke through the years. Now she understands why she was able to engage Kylo Ren and stand her ground in their duel—she's been practicing lightsaber forms since the age of five every single day. She'd been taught how to allow the Force to channel through her—and things that never made sense before are now becoming clear. The relief of knowing the 'why' behind so many things is so incomparable.

Just then, there's a sound toward the main part of the house and Sabé, surprisingly fast, reaches for a blaster that was impressively hidden in her skirts and assumes a battle-ready tense pose. "No, no… it's all right," Rey says quickly, shutting her saber off and explaining herself at once. "I didn't come alone."

Sabé's eyebrows rise slowly and she nods, then puts away the weapon. Rey feels her emotions grow as she realizes anew: Luke. His reaction to seeing her now makes sense. He's her _brother._

Rey and Sabé go back to the lounge area together, where a Wookie is picking up a vase and looking at it upside down curiously. "Chewbacca!" Sabé exclaims pleasantly. And then she sees who is with the Wookie. Smiling apologetically, as if bracing for a guilt trip about his absence, he appears from behind Chewie's massive, furry shape: "Luke!" Sabé breathes, lighting up again and going forward to him. "Oh Luke!" she embraces him joyfully and then looks at him and cups his face in her hands. "Oh, both of my children here again…" she says, growing tearful again as she looks to Rey briefly, who watches with her own shining eyes. She reaches an arm out, beckoning Rey to join, and she does. Luke can see that Rey has remembered, and through vast emotion, he manages a teary smile. They all three hug together, Sabé embracing them both with a fierceness that promises to never let go.

After a moment, they all draw apart. "I've missed you, Mom," Luke says, an unspoken apology in his tone.

Sabé just smiles at him, a weary, loving, happy smile. She's clearly missed him too. "And I've missed you," she replies, then arches an conspiratorial eyebrow. "But now how _exactly_ is it that my two longlost children reappear on the same day?" she asks, clearly desiring to know more. Before either can say anything, she holds up a finger to say 'wait.' "I'll make some tea," she says. "And _then_ we'll talk."

She bustles into the kitchen and Rey hovers, not sure if she should help or not. "How do you know Chewie?" she asks, intrigued. Luke takes a seat at the kitchen table and Rey does too.

There's a sly smile. "Well, we've had an adventure or two, haven't we, Chewbacca?" Sabé winks at the Wookie, who chuckles—a goofy sound. Luke shakes his head and sighs, apparently knowing about whatever the inside joke is. "We have a lot to catch you up on, I think," Sabé says to Rey with both ruefulness and gratitude.

Tea is made and the family settles at the kitchen table with Chewbacca noisily slurping his tea in the lounge. DC-10 re-emerges and bustles around in the background, cleaning and picking things up and asking for them to explain it to them _just one more time please, it's quite confusing really._

As they share warm, spiced tea, Rey tells Luke about what she remembers now: being frozen into carbonite, life on Jakku. He's simultaneously amazed and horrified by what happened. Rey agrees. It's all still processing in her mind. "I should be your age," she ends, feeling the loss anew. Even though she's reunited with her mother and brother… so much has been taken from them all.

Luke seems to understand where she's coming from and attempts humor. "Be glad you're _not_ my age," he mutters. "Everything hurts, and my knees are shot." He reconsiders banter and falls into more seriousness. "When you were taken…" he starts somberly, his eyes growing distant, "it changed something in me. In all of us." Their mother is somberly nodding her agreement. "I think we got a little better over time but… things were just never the same."

Sabé's eyes are far away in painful memories for a moment. "I didn't think I'd ever smile again at times."

Rey's chest hurts—she's felt like that too.

Luke is contemplating Rey with intense eyes. He's been through a painful journey of his own. "Until today, I didn't have hope anymore," he says quietly, and his mother puts a hand silently on his shoulder to show her support and comfort. He briefly sends a thankful smile her way and takes her hand to hold it before looking at Rey with building light in his eyes. "Your return is a sign. That things aren't over yet. That I still have work to do." He sits a little straighter, as if shoring himself up. "I've decided I'm going to rejoin the Rebellion and rally the surviving Jedi," he says, earning a disbelieving, earnestly joyful grin from Rey. "I don't know what I can do…" he says, "but if you really believe Ben can be saved… I'll help you try." Words Rey goes still inside to hear. She feels hope and emotion rising in herself and nods at Luke.

"He can be," she whispers, too overcome to know how to speak at full volume. "I know it."

Luke nods, choosing to believe her. Then he turns to Sabé, hopeful. "Will you come with us, Mom?"

She's already smiling at him, gracious and tender. "Not even a question you need ask, my boy," she says, then chuckles. It's easy to see the dynamic between the two of them: loving, respectful, healthy. Rey's heart wells up again. Sabé is nodding. "My time waiting is done," she says with great satisfaction. "I'll go wherever the two of you go—of course I will. There are some loose ends to tie up here—but DC can help I'm sure." She hesitates. Grows conflicted. "But there's one thing. You must both promise me something." She folds her hands onto the table, her soberness demanding their attention. "Bring me here to be buried when I die. Beside your father." An unexpected request. Rey thinks back to the single stone she saw to the right of the house, and understands now what it is—and feels a pang of heartache. Sabé is bittersweet. "I know his body isn't there, but… after so many years, our souls are intwined with this place." Her eyes are distant, seeing beautiful things she seems content with.

"Mom, don't talk that way…" Luke coaxes, uncomfortable at the request.

He's met with a offhand laugh. "I'm old, Luke—let's be realists, shall we?" She smiles readily, her steadfast energy giving Rey strength. "Just promise me," she asks again, peaceful and at ease. "Both of you."

Rey nods, ready to give her word. "We promise." She hopes she doesn't sound as small and frightened as she feels: "But _you_ promise you'll stay a few more years." The strength in her voice fails. "I need you to."

She's met with reassurance and a strong, firm word given: "I promise." Her mother reaches over and lovingly squeezes her shoulder, reassuring her. And everything in the universe is okay in that moment.

Luke stands up and indicates the back of the house. "Let me help you pack up, Mom."

For the next hour or so, there is quiet, humble work done: Sabé chooses to only bring clothing and a few small choice items, and says that for now, she'll leave DC-10 in charge of the homestead to sell off the animals and caretake until she's made more decisions. She does say she thinks the homestead would make an excellent place for the Rebellion to hide fugitives—since it worked so well for her and a certain Jedi Knight. She speaks fondly of Obi-Wan, and takes every opportunity to hug, touch, and show affection to Rey. It's overwhelming and beautiful. The most strange and wonderful day of Reys life ever.

Finally, Luke and Rey begin to take containers of their mother's things to the Falcon. Chewie helps too of course. After one particular load is finished, Rey comes across Mama standing by one of the courtyards, gazing at the homestead with sad eyes. There's a slight moment of hesitation. Then bravery. "Are you all right?" Rey asks gently, a little shy around her mother despite herself.

Sabé nods, thoughtful and lost in memories, holding an arm out to indicate Rey come to her side. Once she's there, a comforting arm goes around Rey. "When your father and I first came here, I thought I would hate this place," Sabé admits, her eyes wistful on the desert around them. "Now… I feel like I'm leaving an old friend behind." She smiles, and looks at Rey with worldweary eyes.

Rey understands, because she's lost in memories of this place too. "We can come back," she says optimistically, both for herself and for her mother. "Anytime we want."

Sabé smiles even more and squeezes her daughter softly. Rey feels less and less shy, more and more comfortable. All her life it feels like she's waited for these exact moments. To know where she came from, to know who she looks like and who raised her. It's a gift. A gift that so many take for granted.

"Can I get a hand with these?" Luke calls, and Rey breaks out of her reverie and readily jogs over, helping to carry another container over to the Falcon. When it's on board with Chewie, who has fallen asleep in the cockpit, Luke and Rey reemerge to see their mother has gone to the small stone marker off to the side of the house. They fade to a halt, realizing what's happening. Sabé is saying goodbye to Obi-Wan.

There's a moment of silence, and the hot wind whistles over the sand. "Do you remember how they used to be?" Luke asks, sounding wishful for the days of old.

Rey does remember, and smiles as she does. She wishes to be back in that period of time again. "Laughing. Smiling. Always joking about something," she says, remembering the connection her parents shared with great amounts of appreciation. "In love." They were best friends and teammates, confidantes. Always facing things together. _Maybe someday I'll be lucky enough to have something like they did._

"Yeah," Luke says, but his demeanor is transitioning from enamored to sorrowful. "It changed when you left," he murmurs, watching their mother with eyes that have seen many seasons pass. "I think they barely made it. For awhile, this place was joyless. A tomb."

What else is there to do but feel sorry for what happened? And accept it? Rey watches their mother too, feeling pain when she thinks again of everything that was taken from them all. "What changed?"

Luke thinks for a moment. "Time. The great healer."

Rey mulls it over. She's selfishly jealous of Luke's time with their father. Time she'll never have. Her chest constricts as the loss again registers. "I wish I knew him."

There's a knowing smile on Luke's voice. "You will." Rey looks at him immediately, a sudden wretched hope in her heart. Luke doesn't disappoint: "He comes to me."

Words that send a rush of amazement and hope through Rey. " _How_?"

Luke nods toward their mother. "Focus. Look."

Look at what? All Rey sees is Sabé, standing opposite of the small stone, quiet and still. _Focus_. She closes her eyes and remembers her father's lessons. She breathes in and out, letting her notions go to the all-powerful Force that surrounds all and binds all. A calm, tranquil river as deep as the ocean envelopes her in peace and security. She can feel Luke's Force signature near to her. An anchor and a guiding light. He shows her the way. And when she opens her eyes again, her heart leaps: beside Mama, a blue figure stands, his ghostly hand on her shoulder. It's him. Their father. Amazed, Rey is almost brought to tears. "I see him," she breathes, then realizes her mother probably can't. "Does she know he's there?"

Luke sounds just as reverent as she feels. "I think so. She can't see him like we can. I know he comes to her in dreams. I bet she can feel him now, too." He smiles at the sight, then at Rey before he nods to the last of the luggage that's waiting to be loaded. "I'm going to put these things in the Falcon." He waves her away as she begins to go with him. "I don't need help. Stay."

Rey does. When she looks back at her mother, the blue ghost beside her is gone. Even as she wonders where he's disappeared to, an elegantly accented voice that makes hair stand on end is quietly heard just behind her. "Hello there, little one."

She hasn't forgotten his voice. Of course she hasn't. But to hear it again after all this time… and using the way he used to address her when she was just a girl… Rey's eyes flood even before she turns around to see the blue apparition of her father standing before her in the robes of a Jedi. His eyes are warm and wonderful, his smile is serene. "Not so little anymore though, are you?" he asks, and Rey smiles through tears.

" _Dad_ ," she whispers, overcome completely. He's presenting himself in his fifties—perhaps it's the age he died at—which is Luke's age now. Rey is ruined in good and bad ways both as she faces him. "I never got to say goodbye," she manages, struck by the tragedy of it all.

Sadness mirrors back at her in his eyes. "I know." Obi-Wan smiles through the bitterness, somehow tranquil and mildly irreverent, just how she remembers him. "But I much prefer hellos, don't you?" he asks, and Rey's heart begins to sing. All is not lost. He is here. And so is she.

"Yes," she agrees, and dawn breaks over her spirit once more as tears of joy streak hotly down her cheeks. "I do." She thinks again with great joy what she's discovered here today: She is not a nameless scavenger alone in the world. She is Rey Kenobi.

* * *

Sabé and Luke stand off a bit in the waning evening light. Sabé can't see who Rey is speaking with. To a non-Force user, it appears that she's talking to nothing and no one. But after raising two Force-sensitive children, Sabé knows better. "Is she talking to him? Is he there?" she asks quietly, and Luke softly nods, sending a flush of wonder over Sabé's old and tired body. "I wish I could see him," she says longingly, but accepts it just the same. She had Obi-Wan for decades. Rey is certainly more in need of his presence than Sabé is.

With a deep breath in and a sigh out, Sabé looks sidelong at the man she raised from youth. Luke has made her proud a thousand times over, and turned so many hairs gray in the process. He came here about five years ago—his 'final goodbye' by his own words back then. But just like she never stopped believing she would see Rey again, Sabé always knew she would see Luke again too. While she's had dreams of her daughter's life after Vader took her away, she doesn't know what her son has been doing. "Where have you been the past five years, Luke?" she asks, but there's no accusation. Just curiosity and concern.

Luke is obviously ashamed of himself. "Hiding. Afraid." He looks at her with regret that's overtaken by bravery. "I feel less afraid now. I feel ready."

Sabé touches his arm reassuringly. She understands the sentiment well, and smiles easily because of it. "So do I." There is a feeling of completion that Sabé has been waiting so many years for. She will not take it for granted.

There's a brief silence in which Luke uncomfortably deliberates. Finally, he gives her a guilty look. "I'm sorry, Mom," he says earnestly, apologizing even though it hasn't been asked. "I couldn't face the world anymore. Not after what happened."

Sabé looks at him with a vehement, powerful expression. She knows his story better than most. Mara Jade, Jaina and Ben Solo, the New Jedi Order, the struggle with Admiral Thrawn… "Of all people, I understand, Luke," she says, because she's no stranger to pain and hardship. Gentle and pained on his behalf as only a mother can be, she smiles at him, giving him some grace. "You know I do."

He receives the empathy with gratitude. As he looks off at Rey, who he hasn't seen in forty some years, questions are visible on his face. Anxieties. "Han died," he says soberly. "Ben—Kylo Ren—killed him." Sabé listens with a pinched expression and deep surprise. It's hard news to hear. It seems that the Skywalker and Kenobi bloodlines are doomed for struggle. Sometimes, Sabé thinks that the universe is still trying to right the rift between Anakin and Obi-Wan. "Do you think our families can be repaired?" Luke asks, obviously feeling some doubt about it.

Sabé breathes in deeply, contemplating all the moving pieces. She may be old and worn out, well past her prime, but she has some spirit left. And if she knows one thing it's this: "There's always hope, Luke." She truly believes it, too. Despite everything. Smiling to herself is courageous as she thinks of all the events of her life. So many of them were painful and unexpected. So many, she wishes never happened at all. But Obi-Wan taught her to trust the design of the universe. It's impossible at this point to think of her life without recognizing how deeply his presence influenced her. Not a day goes by that she doesn't feel his absence deeply and profoundly. When one day she is given her final rest, she hopes her soul goes to find his. Until then… she looks at her son—Padmé's legacy. She would be so very proud. Luke smiles, softer than she's seen him in a long time.

Rey is coming back toward them now, her expression satisfied, encouraged, and optimistic. She's so beautiful—and looks so much like how Sabé did when she was younger. Sabé smiles and welcomes her daughter with a brace of the hands. She knows the three of them have a lot of catching up and relearning to do, and is eager to do so. But first…

"Before we leave…" she says and turns toward the familiar setting suns. Luke and Rey stand with her as she puts an arm around each of their waists. "Let me see one last sunset, in the place our family started," she says, voice catching on deep emotion. "With both my children at my side."

So much life has been lived here in the quiet desert plot of land. So much love, so much growth and loss and defeat and triumph.

A quiet gust of desert breeze fans over the family of three. "Dad's here too," Luke says, a quiet smile in his voice.

Sabé closes her eyes for a moment and breathes in deep. Yes. He's close—the steadfast presence is a familiar friend she knows well by now. Life without him has been hard and lonely, but she didn't lose him completely, and she will always be thankful for that. In her mind's eye, she readily sees the boyish young man who stole her heart when she was just a girl on Naboo—she sees a flash of crystal blue eyes that became her safe haven and greatest desire. Their years together nurture her soul, reminding her of a journey she would take a thousand times over again. They grew together, they experienced together. They created new life together. They were helplessly drawn closer and closer until made forever intwined. _Obi-Wan_. The man she's loved for over half a century now. She always will. Breeze kisses her face, leaving warmth and assurance behind. Her soul smiles and her lips do too. "I feel him."

She opens her eyes to a burning red and orange sunset she has seen many times over as the two orbs of light sink to the distant horizon. This will be the last time her weary, fading eyes take in the twin suns of Tatooine. The scattered pieces have been gathered. The lost have been found.

There is still life to be lived. And together… they shall live it.

**The End**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cried a little bit writing this chapter. You KNOW I had to end with a binary sunset! Omg. I can't believe the story is over. It's always so heartbreaking and satisfying at the same time to write the final word and update for the last time, but it's also the loss of a friend you've been spending so much time with.
> 
> So yeah. Surprise! Rey is Obi-Wan and Sabé's daughter! I thought it would be a cool twist to write it this way and play with what the sequels put out. Rey REALLY deserved a loving family and I was not into her being a Palpatine, not the way the films portrayed anyway. I think Episode 8 & 9 could be a lot more powerful if the focus was on saving Ben/rebuilding the limping New Jedi Order/facing down Snoke/mending a broken Skywalker/Solo family rather than the "suddenly, Palpatine!" plotline.
> 
> On that note, if you're curious, my ideas for the future SW plot include a Ben Solo who lives, then a power struggle with Jaina Solo when she attempts to become Snoke's apprentice by killing him/Leia. It would culminate in Ben choosing his family over power, and giving in to the call of the Light. He and Rey would work with Luke to rebuild the New Jedi Order, and as always, the adventures would go on. So yeah episodes 8 & 9 wouldn't exist at all in my take on things ;)
> 
> I am thinking about writing a sequel, which would be the Tatooine years - Rey and Luke's childhood, the loss of Rey, Sabé/Obi-Wan/Luke dealing with the fallout. Let me know if you'd be interested to read that or not. I definitely need some time to let my mind settle after writing this/all the stuff going on in the world either way. But I'd love to know your thoughts.
> 
> Thanks again for your feedback and support everyone. All my love. May the Force be with you! Always.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Rising Light](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25034398) by [River_Winters](https://archiveofourown.org/users/River_Winters/pseuds/River_Winters)




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